


Receiver of Many

by KataChthonia



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Hellenistic Religion & Lore
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KataChthonia/pseuds/KataChthonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who are you?" she said, barely able to hear her own words as her heartbeat thrummed in her ears.<br/>"This is your dream, remember? Tell me who I am," he said smiling, absently coiling a tendril of her long brown hair around a finger.<br/>She narrowed her eyes at him.  "If this is my dream, oneiroi, then answer my question.  Who are you?"<br/>He was hearing her true voice: that of a natural ruler. She watched him smile at her fearlessness, even as he loomed over her.  He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I am your lord husband."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**   _The time has come, and I need to take down Receiver of Many as I prepare the book for publication. I had to think long and hard on this, whether or not I could leave it up indefinitely, but since I've had to deal with multiple instances of plagiarism and since the version of RoM that you read was a first draft with all the inconsistencies that should be expected of a first draft, I decided to take it down from public view. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I promise that the book will return! And better than the version you read!_

_Below are the prologue and first four chapter of the book, available for free. They contain new, previously unpublished scenes, and I retooled some of the original text. Given that RoM's original length was over 275,000 words and given that I have written nine new scenes, I had to split the book into two parts:_  Receiver of Many and Destroyer of Light.  **Receiver of Many** ** _will be published on September 23, 2015, and_** **Destroyer of Light** ** _on March 20, 2016_** _. Both books will be available in trade paperback through Amazon, and in ebook through Kindle, Nook, GooglePlay, iBooks, and Smashwords. For more information, please visit my Tumblr or Wordpress, listed in my profile._

_I cannot thank you enough for your support throughout this whole process, and I'll see you in September!_

_~ Rachel Alexander, aka Kata Chthonia_

* * *

Prologue

* * *

She looked skyward and blinked back tears, determined not to let them fall on the infant's head. If Demeter shed tears, who knew what terrible consequences her sorrow would have on the newborn child?

The ten year war was over. Father Kronos was cast into Tartarus along with the other Titans, monsters, and demons of the old order. Her child was safe here at her temple in Eleusis. All the Olympians were safe.

Her heart was broken. She had been his first and his love, their child conceived to rule in peace or in war. But as her belly grew, Zeus Kronides turned his attentions elsewhere— first to Metis, then to Hera. Hera had not captured his heart; she'd secured his critical alliance with the priestesses of Samos. She had convinced several of the Titans to join with the rebel god, Zeus. She had ensured their victory and earned herself the title of Queen of Olympus.

And with that, Demeter was forgotten. She had been left to tend the growing things while her brother gods divided the firmament, the waters, and the earth.

The infant was oblivious, happily gumming her breast. Demeter coaxed her child to suck droplets of ambrosia from her finger. She smiled, enjoying the grip of her daughter's tiny hands and staring into her wide, pale eyes.

The soft voice of her servant Cyane interrupted her.

"My Lady," the nymph said, "Th-there is someone here to—"

"Hades Aidoneus," Demeter said to the looming figure behind her. She hid her breast behind her red chiton, brushed back her long blonde hair, and clutched the swaddled infant to her shoulder.

Demeter looked up at him; his dark eyes peered at her through the slits in his golden helm. The black plumes of the crest were stiff and caked, the helm and plate armor stained with the blood of ancient gods and monsters. The edges of his charcoal and crimson tunic were frayed, and his great black cloak was torn and flecked with blood. Cyane bowed and departed quickly.

"Deme," he said informally, removing his helm and shaking out his hair, "Please, I'm Aidon to you. I was— I am your ally, even still. "

"I will have no such familiarity with any of you. Keep your war and your scheming to yourselves. I'll have no part of it."

"But you  _did_  have a part in it. Just as we all did," Aidoneus said, standing over her. "Deme—"

"Address me by my proper name, my lord."

"Fine. Demeter Anesidora," he said, chewing on the words, "the war is over. I regret that all was not resolved the way you hoped."

She looked away, her green eyes filling with tears again.

He continued, "This war didn't turn out as I wanted either. When we cast lots to divide the cosmos, I received rulership of the Other Side. I, the eldest. Do you really think I fought for the privilege of having Kronos and his pantheon of monsters haunting my doorstep?"

"The Other…" Demeter paled. The third lot was not rulership over the earth as they had all thought, but… ruling the dead. Aidoneus would rule over the  _dead_. And if he did… she held her infant daughter closer. "At least you were  _given_ something _._  What I have lost—"

"Enough, Demeter. Do you really want to be with him? To marry him? In just the past year he's had many and pursued more women than I can count. Not least among them Themis…"

"Stop."

"Metis…"

"Stop!"

"Hera—"

" _Stop it_!" She screamed, jerking away from Aidon's hardened eyes. "Stop it." The wind howled coldly outside, and the baby squalled, balling her tiny fists. Demeter held her closer, cradling her head with her arm as the gale subsided. "You scared her." She turned back to Aidon, glowering.

He waited silently for her to calm the child. As he listened to her cries, something heavy and unfamiliar settled in his chest. Aidoneus shook his head, then straightened. "About Persephone—"

"Kore."

"Excuse me?"

"Her name shall be Kore."

"Zeus— the  _Fates_ — named her Persephone. Given her name, and who she is destined to become…"

Demeter looked away from him. "She is not to marry. And certainly not to someone as hard-hearted as you."

He recoiled, then drew himself up and narrowed his eyes. Demeter wouldn't—  _couldn't_  do this to him. Too much had already been taken from him today. "When she comes of age—"

"She will remain with me," she said, but her voice wavered as she spoke. Demeter's eyes grew wide and pleading. "Aidon, please; she's all I have left." She looked down at her baby girl, who murmured softly as she drifted to sleep.

"We made a bargain," he said, growing impatient. "I rallied the House of Nyx against the Titans and their servants. The war would have been lost without me. She is part of the oath that both of you swore."

"There is no longer a  _both of us_ ," Demeter cried. "He has taken that... that... bloodless, brainless, conniving—"

"Careful…," he said quietly, his teeth on edge. Love and loss were not his concern. He didn't understand matters of the heart any more than he understood childbirth or the movements of the sea. "His choice of queen has nothing to do with our pact."

"Marriage is now Hera's province, and I'll have no part of it. Not for me, and not for Kore! I swear off all the Olympian men and  _swear on the Styx_  that none of them shall have her. No one shall destroy her as  _he_  destroyed me!"

"I accept," Aidoneus said.

"You accept what?"

" _Your oath_. After today, I am no longer one of them. If you are so eager to keep her from the Olympian men, then I will renounce their company, and with them the sunlit world."

"That doesn't mean you can take her from me! I didn't mean—"

Aidoneus stood resolute. "For my part in the Titanomachy, when Persephone comes of age, she is to be my queen and consort and rule the Underworld by my side. You cannot change that!"

She glared up at him, tears staining her cheeks, saying nothing.

Hades shook his head and turned his back to her, walking to the door. "Do not think to see me again until that time," he called out behind him. "None of you will see me. If you are going to swear off the Olympians for her sake, then so will I."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

* * *

"Kore!" Demeter squinted in the noon sun and called out again, "Kore?"

"Over here, Mother!" Kore stood amidst the sheaves of barley to wave Demeter over, then crouched again and poked her finger into the soil. Dark green leaves shot out in every direction, and she circled her wrist upward, raising a stalk out of the earth. She stood slowly. The plant crept toward her hand. Kore splayed her fingers wide and a purple blossom sprang from the thorny stalk.

"Oh, Kore, if you grow a thistle in the barley field, someone might prick their finger."

"Wait," Kore said, smiling. "Just watch."

A fiery copper butterfly fluttered on the warm breeze and alighted on the blossom. Demeter smiled.

"You see? I saw her wandering in the barley and made her a home. You don't mind, do you?"

"My sweet, clever girl, of course I don't." Demeter hugged Kore. The butterfly folded its wings, fed and content.

"My thistle won't interfere with the harvest, will it?" Kore knit her brows.

"Not in the slightest."

The butterfly spread its wings, sunlight catching them as they fanned. "I don't think she will be alone for long. Surely a good mate will come looking for her."

"Yes."

"What's wrong, mother?"

Demeter looked north, toward distant Thessaly and Mount Olympus.

Kore leaned on Demeter's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't think before I spoke. The meeting is tomorrow, yes?"

"It is…"

"Why must you go?"

"Because," Demeter smiled and stroked her daughter's shoulder. "Although I don't dwell on Olympus with the rest of them, I am  _still_  a member of the  _Dodekatheon_. I have my responsibilities here, but each full moon, I also have a responsibility to them and to the domain I govern. Just as you have a responsibility to the fields and all that blooms within them. And my going there… keeps us safe."

Kore swallowed. Demeter, she knew, had made Eleusis forbidden ground for the rest of the gods, specifically the  _male_  gods. She had known little of the Olympians since her childhood in the Fields of Nysa. Artemis and Athena visited infrequently, and she had seen Hermes on the rarest of occasions when he delivered news to her mother. She'd heard about Apollo and Hephaestus, and all the rest of her cousins, only from nymphs and in stories told by the mortals.

"There remains much for me to do before tomorrow. I need to go to Thassos and Crete. And I regret leaving you with Minthe again…"

Kore sighed.

"Daughter, you  _know_ you're safest here. Eleusis is under my protection, and with it— most importantly—  _you_. Don't ever forget what Daphne was forced to do to protect herself from Apollo."

Kore's lips tightened into a line and she looked away. Maybe if she met these gods herself they would see that there was nothing at all tempting about her. Maybe she could convince her mother there was nothing to fear. Kore would wait until tomorrow. "All right," she said. "Perhaps I can accompany you to Crete next time, Mother? Or to… wherever you happen to go?"

Demeter grinned and stretched her hand out, opening up a pathway that would carry her over land and sea to the ripe fields across all of Hellas. "We'll see."

"I'll see you around sunset," Kore called out as Demeter disappeared into the sheaves of barley. She turned back to the thistle, watching the butterfly rest on the thorny stalk before it flew off toward the pasture. Kore danced after it down the pathway.

* * *

Rhadamanthus handed a scroll to Minos, who unrolled it and ran his eyes across it.

"The one before us is Aeolides, son of Aeolus and Enarete, king of Ephyra." He flattened the scroll on the ebony table before him and folded his hands.

Hades Aidoneus nodded to the judges, then leaned back on his throne, regarding the trembling mortal. "Aeolides, known to his people as Sis—"

"Please! You don't understand!" The dead mortal screamed. "I'm not—"

"Silence," Minos said, barely raising his voice. "You dare to interrupt the Receiver of Many? At your own judgment, no less?"

"There's been a mistake," he said, crumbling to his knees and weeping. The man raised his eyes to the inexorable god on his throne and the fearsome winged daimon beside him. "Please… Mercy. Please…"

"You will not speak unless spoken to. There are worse fates than even Tartarus," Rhadamanthys added before addressing Hades. "My lord, this one has been ranting since he arrived that he is not Sisyphus. Should we—"

Aidoneus raised his fingers from the arm of his throne and the brothers fell silent. "Hold, Alekto." The winged daimon relaxed her golden wings and stepped back. The Lord of the Underworld turned to the mortal. "You died three days ago, no? A mighty king leveled by tooth rot."

"No, no I wasn't, I was burned. I was  _burned_  by him!" The man trembled. "I am not him. I am not Sisyphus!"

"Aren't you now," Aidoneus peered at the mortal, his face a mask. "You know of my other names, do you not?"

"I know, y-your excellency. You are the Lord of Souls. Please, Merciful One, Righteous One, I  _beg_  you, look into mine. Look into my soul. My  _true_  soul," he cried, his words choked out through sobs. "Please. You will see. I am not Sisyphus. He betrayed me. The black henbane… the pyre…"

The barest hint of a smile crossed Minos's face. He snorted. "I've heard this before, my lord. Wealthy mortals, fearing an eternity in Tartarus, pay charlatans to  _cleanse_  them of their wrongdoings, and will even murder, thinking the sacrificed souls will take their place so they can escape your judgment." He leaned forward to speak to the weeping man. "How many talents of gold did that false trick cost you?"

Alekto snickered and folded her wings.

Aidoneus was not amused.

"Please," the mortal begged again, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"You wish for me to look into your soul, then? A brave request." The Lord of the Underworld narrowed his eyes. "I will tell you what I see."

"You," the mortal's voice shook, "y-you will give me a chance?"

"If your words are true, you will drink the waters of the Lethe. You will forget the suffering of your mortal life, and you will join the souls in the Fields of Asphodel. If, however, your claims prove false…"

"Thank you; thank you my lord. You are wise and just." His shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

Aidoneus stood, his staff held firmly in his right hand, his gaze affixed to the mortal. "I see one who defied Zeus, the King of the Gods."

The dead king's eyes opened wide. "No…"

"A host who murdered his own house guests."

"No, please!"

"A kinsman who raped his own niece, compelling her to murder her children, then drove his brother to madness and death."

"That's not true. That was  _him_! It was  _him_!"

"I see a man who, through his own hubris, tried to elevate himself above the gods."

"Please, no, no, no," the man crumpled forward, sobbing.

Aidoneus had seen the wicked react this way before when the breadth of their sins was laid bare. He had very little patience for it. His staff pounded the floor, the echo resounding through the room. He stood tall, his shoulders drawn back. "Abandon all hope, Sisyphus, son of Aeolus and Enarete. For the murder of your guests, the violation of your niece, for offenses against Zeus and all the gods, you are denied the waters of the Lethe. I, Hades Aidoneus Chthonios, firstborn son of Kronos, sentence you to Tartarus for all eternity. Rhadamanthys and Alekto will escort you to the Phlegethon. You will be cast into the Pit where the Hekatonkheires will exact your punishment."

"No, it's a mistake! Please, Merciful One,  _please_  have mercy on me! Mercy! Mercy!" The man let out a wail of grief, his voice ringing through the granite halls as he was dragged bodily by golden-winged Alekto.

Aidoneus sat, exhausted. He rarely sent a soul to Tartarus, and disliked doing so. But it was a necessity. He pinched the bridge of his nose and slumped back into his throne.

"Are you well, my lord?"

"I'm fine, Minos."

"Hypnos tells me you haven't been sleeping."

"A full night's sleep would be worthier of Hypnos's gossip, no?"

Minos chortled.

Aidoneus opened his eyes. "Are there any more today?"

"No my lord. And no coming judgment of any other kings or nobles, either."

"That is good."

"You know, the harvest is on the full moon," the judge said. "Fewer die during this time. I truly believe the sick, weak, and old are filled with enough joy from the harvest festivals to stay alive a little longer than they normally would."

Aidoneus nodded, staring across the dimly lit expanse of the Styx outside the terrace of his throne room, distracted and deep in thought. "Perhaps."

"If you no longer require me, I'll rejoin my brother and Aeacus at the Trivium."

"You may do so. Goodnight, Minos."

The judge nodded to his king and shut the door of the throne room behind him.

* * *

Her every footfall was filled by small flowers, and Kore glanced back to admire the bunches of larkspur climbing toward the sun along the roadside. She skipped, and soft petals grew under her springing feet. She twirled, and left a spray of purple irises all around her.

"My lady!" Kore vaguely heard Minthe call out behind her, the blonde nymph jogging to catch up. "Please, milady, we must stay within these fields."

"What are you afraid of?" Kore brushed her hand across the bare earth. "You needn't worry about straying from your river. What could possibly harm you?" Roses, thorny and thick with pink blossoms, circled them. "I can protect you better than you can protect  _me_ , Minthe."

"That's not what worries me, milady. Your mother said—"

"She wouldn't object to  _this_ ," Kore said, rolling her eyes. "We'd have to walk this road for half a day before we left the Thriasian plain, and there is no one for miles around!"

A fan of scattered saffron spread across the field as she ran. The pale naiad picked up her skirts and chased after the maiden goddess. "Wait! Lady Kore! Please!"

"Besides, Minthe, even if we were to see someone, Mother taught me long ago how to make myself—" She stopped cold and staggered back. White lilies crowded around her, perfuming the air, heady and sickly sweet. Kore's breath caught in her throat and her eyes grew wide.

"What's wrong?" Minthe said, catching up with her. A yearling fawn sprawled on the ground before them, bunches of beguiling aconite growing all around it. Its eyes were vacant and its mouth held a half-chewed wad of its last, poisonous meal. Flies swarmed its face. Minthe grasped Kore by the wrist, startling her. "Come, milady, you don't need to see this."

"Why not?" Kore answered distantly, rooted to the earth.

"It's ugly and… it's…" Minthe tugged at Kore's wrist again, encouraging her to continue down the road, to grow more roses, to forget the fallen deer. "Your mother wouldn't like it if she knew you were troubling yourself with such things."

"Why would she care? I've seen this before; it's part of life."

The naiad's mouth went dry. "But I can't… your mother told me to act in her stead. You are an earth goddess of young life and blooming things. She wouldn't want you around anything… a-anything that's…"

Kore gave the nervous nymph a half-smile. "Dead?"

Minthe nodded and wrung her hands.

She giggled. "Please, Minthe. There's dead grass under the plants, and insects, and…" She broke out into full throated laughter. "Did you think she meant you to keep me away from  _all_  of that?"

"No," the blonde naiad muttered. "Only the bad things."

"The  _bad_  things." Kore cocked her head to the side. "Like what?"

Minthe fidgeted.

Kore grasped Minthe's hand and they walked away. Violets peeked out of the earth along their path. She wasn't altogether fond of being escorted through the fields like a little girl, especially by a nymph who was younger than her. But Kore knew that Minthe didn't,  _couldn't_  discuss certain things with her— that myriad topics were forbidden by her mother or simply made the poor naiad uncomfortable. Mating was off limits, and no topic was more forbidden than the process of decay in the fields behind them. "Alright, Minthe, we'll not talk about it."

"Thank you, milady," she sighed in relief.

"But your mother was  _from_  the river that flows through the world below, where the dead belong, wasn't she? The place where the spirit of that deer went…"

"I…" Minthe tensed again.

"Let's not talk about the 'bad things', Minthe. But…"

"Yes?"

"What about something  _good_? Surely there must be  _one_  thing. Tell me something else about the world below."

"I-I know very little," she demurred. "I wasn't born there."

"Please?"

Minthe looked to the clouds above them, trying to find something to appease Kore's insatiable curiosity and end this conversation. A butterfly flew overhead, settling on a flower. More followed, clustering around the sweet violets. "Well… my mother told me something once, a very sweet idea. I don't know if it's true, though…"

Kore licked her lips, ready to devour anything Minthe offered.

"She said that sometimes mortal souls get lost on their way to the world below."

"What happens to them?"

"She said they grow little wings and become butterflies. They find their way back faster because their lives are short. But sometimes, if they loved someone deeply, they will find the one they lost, and journey to the Land of the Dead together."

Kore clasped her hands together and grinned. "What a lovely idea! I wonder if that's true of the butterflies who found my thistle today."

"What?"

"I grew a thistle this morning so the little copper butterflies could have a place to rest. Maybe they are wandering souls that needed to find each other and journey to the Other Side together."

Minthe grew pale. "F-forget what I said."

"Why? It's sad, but I think it's lovely, honestly."

"Milady, please! Please don't tell your mother what I said!" She looked horrified.

Kore raised a confused eyebrow. "I won't. I didn't plan to, anyway. But why should my mother be troubled by the Land of the Dead?"

The antechamber was dark, but Aidoneus didn't bother lighting torches. He strode the familiar path across the room, one he'd trod for millennia, and entered his bedchamber.

He removed his crown, robes, and rings, then drew the bed curtains, shrouding himself in total darkness. Aidoneus pulled up the cool bedclothes and closed his eyes. He slept in fits and starts, just as he always had, but if he lay still and purged his mind of thoughts and cares, sleep would come. Eventually, his body slackened and his breath became slow and measured. In his mind's eye dark and light coalesced and resolved, gaining form.

When he saw narcissus flowers dappled with sunlight, he knew.  _Fates_ , he thought,  _why now?_

The dream, repeated throughout the aeons of his rule, hadn't manifested for centuries. But this past fortnight, every time he shut his eyes, there  _she_  was— lying entwined with him in a shaded grove, with flowers growing all around them.

Her face was hidden— it was always hidden. He got teasing glimpses: a flash of russet hair, his hand on her flared hips, her flower-trimmed ankles brushing against his shins, her soft fingers dancing across his skin. Her hand brushed across his chest and down his stomach. He closed his eyes, felt her breath on his cheek, and heard her whisper his familiar name into his ear.

_Aidon_ …

He turned and captured her lips in a kiss, tasting distant memories of sunlight and heady new life springing from the earth. He could not see her, but he knew it was  _her_ — his unknown betrothed— that haunted his dreams. It was her that inexorably drew him to this shaded bed of white and yellow-trumpeted flowers time and time again. Her fingers tangled in his hair and he carefully rolled over her.

_Aidon_ …

His pulse quickened as she encircled him in her arms, drawing him closer and covering her supine body with his. He grew hungry for her, giving in to the delights of skin upon skin, his mouth upon hers. The dream was always like this. He would caress her, she would kiss him, their hands, their mouths demanding more. These motions were familiar— their dance repeated across the aeons.

_My lord husband_ , she said within his very thoughts.  _Come to me… Find me, Aidoneus._

He awoke with a start.

"Persephone…" Her name exploded from his lungs, and he lay back, light headed with the same rampant need he'd had for her in the dream—aching, and unfulfilled. It was always unfulfilled. Every time his body compelled him to complete their union within the dream, he would awaken. But this time was different.

She'd never whispered anything more than his name. Why did she call for him?  _Why now?_ Aidoneus breathed deeply and wiped the sweat from his face. He closed his eyes, shaking off the heady sensations of the dream world. After the ache subsided, he threw off the sheets and rose. He was grateful for the handful of hours he'd been able to lie still.

He couldn't banish the dream. He was certain the Fates wouldn't  _allow_  that. Morpheus had told him plainly aeons ago that there was nothing he could do. And any remedy Hypnos offered by way of poppies allowed deeper, darker things to dominate his dreams.

Aidoneus scooped a handful of water from the basin in his room and splashed it across his body before attacking his skin with oil, pumice stone, and a metal  _strigil_. After he shaved his neck and upper lip with a razor, he neatly pulled back his long black hair with a golden torc, dressed, and opened the door to the antechamber. A figure stood by the window. He stiffly drew back his shoulders, annoyed.

Hecate turned from the open window, a knowing smile on her face. "Tonight is the full moon, my lord."

"That's hardly worth the intrusion," he said, knowing where this conversation was headed. "The moon waxed and waned before any of us came to be."

"Hermes's sandals alight here today, no? He will ask if you have any message for Olympus…"

"Yes." Aidoneus strode across the room, trying to avoid her next question.

"She danced in your dreams again, didn't she?"

He stopped.

"Were the steps the same as ever?" Hecate asked, walking toward him. "Or different this time?"

"I don't know why you bother with questions to which you already know the answer."

She smiled. "Different, then. What did she whisper?" He thinned his lips and looked at her helplessly. Hecate already knew exactly what she'd said. "It's time, Aidon. The moon is full."

* * *

"And Thassos?"

"Lovely, as always," Demeter said. Kore picked a few violets, weaving them into a crown. Demeter gave her an orange poppy, and Kore smiled, adding the finishing touch. "More importantly, their crops grow thick this year. The harvest will provide for them all."

"I'd love to see Thassos some time."Kore clasped her hands behind her back. "So… the meeting of the Olympians is today…"

"Yes, it is. I will leave shortly. Minthe will keep you company."

" I don't want to be kept company, Mother. I wonder if I could go with you this time." Kore raised her eyebrows and grinned. Demeter's face fell.

"I cannot watch over you there. You've seen what a rage your father can get into," she said, gesturing toward the gathering clouds, "and some of your cousins are… not to be trusted." Zeus's thunder cracked the northern sky, calling the twelve Olympians to court.

"But I'm the first born of the cousins and have only been to the Mount once, Mother," Kore pleaded. "And that was aeons ago, when I was too young to remember it."

Demeter sighed. "Sweet child, I promise you can come with me someday… But not today."

"But, Mother—"

"That is my final word," she said.

Kore folded her arms and turned away. "Fine. Someday."

Demeter squeezed her daughter's shoulders. "Next time the gods assemble, I will take you with me."

Eyes lighting up again, she turned to her mother.

"If," Demeter continued, "and only if, you promise not to speak with Hermes or Apollo."

"Really?" she smiled, knowing she could find a way around Demeter's restrictions.

"Yes, child." Another rumble of thunder rolled through the plain. "I must go. Minthe will meet you by the river."

* * *

"I don't understand why she doesn't join us," Hephaestus said, pouring another glass of nectar for Demeter. "She works far too hard."

Demeter smiled thinly at her nephew. "She's… shy. Kore prefers the fields and flowers. She's remarkably talented. You should see what she created yesterday."

"I'm sure my cousin's flowers are lovely. But she does the job of a nymph, not what she was born to do. Persephone might not feel at ease in court, but I'm here, and… well, look at me!"

Demeter shared a strained laugh with the crippled Blacksmith. She had worked all her life to protect Kore from the advances of the immortals. Zeus had fallen for woman after woman, human and immortal alike, and Queen Hera had fallen into petty jealousy and vengeance. Demeter hated to admit it, but Aidoneus had been right, about that at least. That could have been her.

Zeus sprawled on a cushioned divan, leaning on his elbow toward Apollo. His baritone carried over the chatter that filled the hall. "…as a bull, I tell you!" He grinned and gestured lewdly. Apollo threw his head back and guffawed. Demeter pursed her lips, remembering the lengths Daphne had gone to escape Apollo. The sons of Zeus were worse still— Kore would never suffer at their hands.

In a blur, Hermes flew through the white portico columns that stretched across the hillside of Olympus. The Messenger alighted and strode forward, gripping his caduceus with white knuckles. He whispered in Zeus's ear.

"Impossible! He hasn't left that place since…" The Ruler of the Sky's voice grew irritated. " _Why_  would he come here for  _that_?"

The king rose from his divan and climbed the steps to the top of his marble dais, settling onto his throne. He motioned to Hera, who obediently took her seat three steps below his. The other immortals hummed with questions.

A vise gripped Demeter's heart. It couldn't be. Aeons had passed— enough time for him to have let go of the matter, or to have forgotten altogether. No one had seen him outside his realm since the end of the war…

The linen chitons of the Olympians fluttered against their sun-kissed bodies as a cool wind blew through the throne room. A river of black smoke flowed into the hall, startling all but one. Demeter stood her ground, fists balled in anger.

Hades walked out of the smoke clad in black robes, his long, curling black hair pulled back with a golden band. He wore a simple crown of poplar leaves and three dark red gems shone on his left hand. His raiment looked austere among the rest of the bejeweled immortals. Aidoneus surveyed the room.  _This court is more revelry than rule_ , he thought, _a social club in the sky for the deathless ones._

Hestia drew her veil over her face. Artemis whispered in Athena's ear. Aphrodite sneered and crowded toward Ares, who puffed out his chest. Apollo raised a golden eyebrow. One by one, they bowed their heads to the eldest of the Olympian gods.

Demeter stood imperiously in the middle of the hall, the last to bow to the Lord of the Underworld. Aidoneus could feel wrath flowing from her, and was transported back to the last night any of the Olympians had seen him outside his realm.

He approached the throne and bent to one knee. The room was silent, every eye transfixed. He planted one hand on the white marble floor and bowed his head low.

"Lord Zeus, Queen Hera, I have come to claim what was promised to me during the Titanomach—"

"NO!" Demeter cried out. The room collectively gasped, then filled with chatter. Aidoneus kept his gaze fixed on the floor.

Hermes slammed his caduceus three times on the floor and Zeus bellowed, "Silence!"

After the roll of thunder subsided, Demeter calmed, her voice wavering. "Lord Hades, you cannot have her. She is sworn only to her worshippers, the fields, and to me." She walked forward and stared up at the dais. "Zeus! Your daughter tends to the young shoots and flowers—"

"Demeter," Zeus sighed. He had loved her once; had intended to make her queen until she had proven her ineptitude during the Olympians' war with the Titans. "Persephone was long ago promised to Hades. She is a woman now and has been of age for centuries. It is past time for her to leave you."

"I will  _not_  hand over my only daughter to the Lord of the Dead. I will not see her traded like chattel!"

"It's not your decision to make,  _my lady_ ," Zeus replied stonily.

"Why not?! You had nothing to do with nurturing her; you have no right to give her away to someone who has been a stranger to us for aeons."

"It is  _not_ your responsibility to decide these things," Zeus said. "You did well in raising her, but Persephone is one of my—"

"My lords," she interrupted, raising her voice. If they would not listen, she had to leave now, before it was too late. She had to protect Kore. "Know this. If you so much as touch her," she hissed at Hades, "I will know of it. And rest assured, I will turn the world upside down before I allow her to be taken from me."

"Demeter…"

She bowed curtly to Zeus. A field of barley rose around her and she disappeared into the thick of the blades, her final words on the matter echoing back through the ether. "I have spoken."

Aidoneus rose and looked around the room, insulted and embarrassed. The others stood stock still. So this was how it was to be— no one would speak up for the oldest and most sacred pact of the Olympians. He wondered why that surprised him. Hades turned on his heel, and a soft rumble emanated from the throne. "Aidoneus…"

He looked back up at Zeus. "You must make Demeter comply."

"Leave us, now. All of you!" Zeus bellowed. "Except you two," he said, motioning to Hermes and Eros. Hades waited while the ten remaining Olympians and their attendants departed, nodding respectfully to Hera. The winged son of Aphrodite thinned his lips. Hermes fidgeted with his caduceus.

"Why them?" Aidoneus growled.

"Witnesses, of course. This  _is_  a marriage negotiation, is it not?"

"There is  _nothing_  to negotiate. I kept my end of Deme's bargain. I have been patient long enough. Persephone is due to me."

"Demeter will never agree."

His mouth went dry. "You and her mother swore her to me on the banks of the River Styx. A binding oath  _on the Styx,_ Zeus. Did either of you think I would forget?"

"I never said I wouldn't honor it."

"What about Demeter?"

"You know she's too stubborn to let her girl go."

"Persephone has been a  _woman_ , a full-fledged goddess, for nearly a millennium.  _Longer_ , perhaps."

"That doesn't matter to Deme. Persephone will always be her Kore."

Aidoneus clenched his teeth. "Then what do you suggest?"

"Take her."

"That's it?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I sired her; my consent is all you need to marry her. You want her? It's done. She's yours. Find Persephone and take her."

"I can't just… have her. What do you expect me to do? Turn into a swan? Rain down around her in a shower of light?" he said. "Those are not my ways."

"I know, Aidon," Zeus said, shaking his head. "You are too reserved, too somber. There's no way you can seduce her outright."

"Well, that's reassuring," he said, stung.

"I'm not giving you an impossible task, Aidon. You command more than just the dead; you can find ways to her that are closed even to me." Zeus shifted on the throne and rested his chin on his hand, knitting his brow. Then he smiled. "I may have something to help you along… Eros!"

The winged youth raised his bow, his arrow already nocked, took aim, and loosed. Aidon caught the golden arrow and winced, his hand clamped around its head, inches from his heart. He opened his fist. Parallel wounds from the razor sharp edges closed themselves. His blood quickened as he held the golden arrow in his shaking hands.

Heart racing, his head grew light, and he shifted his stance to steady his feet underneath him. Flashes of russet hair, a soft female voice, the twirling skirt of a green linen chiton, grass-stained knees, and delicate, flower-trimmed ankles invaded his thoughts. He looked at Zeus with a mixture of bewilderment and fury. "Was that necessary?!"

Zeus laughed. "We shall see."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

Moist soil gave way to tender blades of grass and a host of flowers. Kore waved her hand over the barren earth at the banks of a stream and bright green shoots appeared in its wake. A twirl of her fingers drew gentle buds up from the ground.

"Larkspur, milady?" said Minthe, brushing her blonde hair behind one ear. "I doubt your mother would want even more in this field. Why not something else?"

"I'm feeling... uninspired right now," she said, annoyed by Minthe's high-pitched voice. Though Kore was older than Minthe, she looked younger, and her more youthful appearance made the naiad's cosseting chafe all the more.

It would be worse if Athena and Artemis were here. Though older than them by aeons, she still retained the countenance of a youth and they looked so… womanly. She was not alone among the immortals in her youthful appearance. Eros, Demeter would remind her, looked as young as she did and was nearly as ancient as Kore. She sighed. Perhaps that was what her domain would always mean for her. Flowers and budding shoots were young and she was their goddess. Kore frowned. And because of this, she thought— remembering that her cousins had been elevated to the  _Dodekatheon_  while she had not— she would  _always_  be a goddess of little consequence or responsibility.

Kore made short strands of larkspur and wove them about her wrist, then a strand around each of her ankles, contrasting the white blooms against her short, sage green chiton. Kore looked down at her bare legs. Though youthful, she was ages past her flowering and the same as every other woman who had her monthly courses, she wanted to wear the longer belted dresses of an adult, and to wear her russet brown hair braided up in a beautiful chignon.

Kore dropped her gaze, frustrated.

"What's the matter with you?" Minthe asked. "You've been like this all afternoon."

"Nothing…" she lied, looking to the storm raging around Olympus. While she had begged her mother to let her come today, she was now glad that Demeter had refused. The dark clouds and lightning did not lie: there must have been a terrible disagreement today.

The sweet sound of pipes in the distance caught her ear. A plucked string from a lute answered the pipes and grew louder, closer. She heard laughter. Kore started walking toward the music.

"Lady Kore, we mustn't. It's the mortals! Your lady mother forbids us to go near them."

Kore giggled. "The way you talk, they sound like monsters! Honestly, Minthe, we have nothing to fear."

"I cannot stray from the river, milady, please…" Minthe implored her. Her immortal spirit was rooted to the riverside, vulnerable anywhere else but here.

"Then stay. I'm going to see what they're doing," she said, quickening her pace.

"But your mother—"

"I won't tell her if you won't!" Kore called out behind her. Minthe nervously wrung her hands before disappearing into the grasses in a flash of green.

Kore ran toward a grove of venerable oaks and peered around the thick trunk of a tree. The villagers from Eleusis were casting white flowers into the wind around a tent they had erected in the clearing. From under a saffron cloth emerged a man and woman smiling at each other, followed by one of her mother's white-cloaked priestesses. They paraded around the tent with other guests, then sat at a small table while the rest gathered around. On the table were two small barley cakes alongside straw effigies of Kore and her mother that were draped with vibrant flowers.

She smiled. It was a wedding party!

The woman wore a long saffron peplos and a crown of laurel and olive. The man, bare shouldered and tanned, fed a cake to the woman. The bride picked up her cake and fed him a bite. They kissed, and the crowd cheered again.

Kore clapped her hands together with the host of friends and family. From her hidden vantage at the edge of the clearing, she felt a tinge of loneliness.

The couple entered the tent at the behest of the Eleusinian priestess, kissing each other, their friends cheering them on lasciviously. A short, red-cheeked man poured barley beer, and the guests passed ceramic cups to the renewed melodies of lute, pipes and tambourine. Kore crept into the clearing, casting a glamour of invisibility over herself as she approached the wedding party.

Through the swirling music and dance she heard a cry from the woman. Was she hurt? She found herself in the middle of the revelers, close enough to see through the fabric of the woven tent. Their saffron nuptial robes lay in a heap on the floor. The man and woman lay beside each other amidst blankets and cushions and strewn flowers, his hand trailing down her neck to her breast. When his fingers reached its apex, he gave her nipple a little pinch. As she cried out, Kore looked at her face. She was smiling, and curled her body against the man. He took the stiffening peak in his mouth and kissed her breast, his hand now sliding downward, fingers gently moving through the thatch of hair between her thighs.

The woman bucked and gasped, her hand caressing the man's chest and shoulders. Kore felt something deep within her start to tighten and coil, making her suddenly, and strangely, very aware of the place between her thighs. The woman turned and grasped at a part of the man, unseen to Kore, the woman's hand moving in long strokes. His face contorted in a strained sigh and he moved over his new wife, kissing her lips and pushing her hand away from his loins.

The woman parted her legs, lifting her knees above the man's waist and staring up into his eyes. Kore looked on, wide-eyed, as he pushed slowly forward. The woman's mouth opened and her eyes squeezed shut, her fingers curling as she grasped her husband's back. The man paused to stroke her forehead.

He leaned down, kissed her, and pushed forward again. The look of agony on the woman's face intensified, then melted away as he brought his hips to rest inside hers. The husband embraced his wife again, moving in a slow rhythm between her thighs, drawing her closer, kissing her, and caressing her breasts. The wife raised her legs higher, slender calves alongside his back, her hands raking his shoulders as she moaned her pleasure.

Her knees lifted to his shoulders, ankles crossed behind his waist, and Kore now saw between their bodies. A hard shaft of flesh protruded from the man and thrust rhythmically into the woman. Kore felt her insides coil tighter and her thighs squeeze together. Her nipples hardened and chafed against her dress.

The woman cried out and moaned, arching toward her husband. The man rose above his wife and his hips thrust faster through her. Kore's heart beat out of her chest, her breathing paced in time with the woman's strained cries, and then the man groaned and collapsed onto his wife.

They unwound together, breathing heavily, skin glowing with sweat. The man pulled out of the woman, his engorged flesh softening as he held her close, kissing her and whispering sweet praises into her ear, thanking the gods that he had her as his.

_So this is how these mortals worship each other_ , she thought. The ache of loneliness grew stronger as she turned away from the tent.

* * *

The sky had become golden, small clouds tinted with pink on their undersides as they traversed the sky. She left the wedding party and walked back toward the meadow. Kore felt an unexpected slickness between her legs and blanched. It wasn't her moon cycle; that had ended a week ago. She reached under her dress, and shivered when she touched her nether lips, inexplicably swollen and… wet. Kore looked at her glistening fingers.

She raised an eyebrow. This was new— a fluid that wasn't water or moon blood, but flowed slick and clear between her fingers. Kore bent to wipe it through the grass as she walked. A thick shrub bearing clumps of white, pungent flowers grew from where she trailed her dripping fingers.

Kore sighed, knowing she would have to explain this new hedge to her mother. She made herself a crown of the pretty little flowers. It would be a decent excuse. She walked on, her mind filled with questions and a strange yearning for something unknown and unexpected. She'd felt loneliness before, had felt it painfully since her mother had moved them back to Eleusis from the fields of Nysa a millennium ago, but never this acutely. Oftentimes, it was a loneliness and boredom she could deal with on her own, busying herself with the simple acts of creation her mother taught her— her divine role as the Maiden of the Flowers. But this feeling… this wasn't anything she could possibly solve or satisfy alone. It tormented her— flooding her with a strange ache and curiosity.

The images of the husband and wife in the tent played back and forth in her mind, one to the other. Nature had been a part of her as long as she had existed. She knew what mating was, that most creatures needed to do so to create more of their kind. But what she saw today, the motions made, the things done, the dizzying heights to which the husband had taken his wife and what she had in turn brought to him had little to do with making more humans. If that was what they wanted, the man would have just mated quickly with her to plant his seed at the proper time in her cycle, like deer or rabbits, and that would be the end of it. But he'd taken his time. He'd ensured that she enjoyed it. And the look on the woman's face, the convulsions of her body, confirmed it. To see pleasure and desire and love… she'd only heard whispered stories…

Questions were all she had now, and there was only one person who could answer these riddles for her— one who had loved and had been loved, one who knew what it all meant. Her mother. The sky lit up in a soft flare of reds and purples. Demeter appeared, her emerald-pinned blue peplos echoing the colors of the sky, under a flowing gold mantle that matched the barley fields beyond Eleusis. The wind came in from the sea and whipped her long robes about her. Kore's feet padded through the grass, faster as she grew closer, eager to have her answers before it was time to rest for the night. She wrapped her arms around Demeter. "Mother!"

"Kore!" she caught her daughter and held her close, relieved. Her face was creased with worry. "Where have you been?"

"There was a wedding near Eleusis. I went to watch."

Demeter frowned. "Is that where you got those flowers in your hair?"

"Not from the wedding, exactly…"

"Tell me the truth, Kore. You didn't speak to anyone there, did you?"

"No, I didn't even let anyone see me. And the flowers are new. My creation," she said, turning once on her toes before walking toward the sunset. "I think I'll call them lilacs."

Kore raised her left hand over the fields and gently closed her fingers to her palm. All the flowers followed suit, resting for the night. "Mother?"

"Yes, dear one?"

"Will I ever get married?"

Demeter halted in her tracks and pursed her lips, struggling to hide her distress from Kore. Had he come unseen to visit her? Hades has been unknown and unseen by most of the Olympians since the war. Who knew what tricks he'd learned during all his aeons in the darkness? He could be capable of anything. Demeter quickly schooled her expressions. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I…" she flushed and looked away from her mother. "The man and woman at the wedding looked so… so happy when they were alone together in their wedding tent. I just wonder if…"

Demeter watched her daughter twist. She smiled, relaxing. He hadn't come to her, and Kore was still innocent. It shone through in every turn of her ankle and her hands clutching at the edges of her chiton. She tried to explain the best she could. "Darling, what you saw wasn't true love, it was just lust. They were pricked by Eros, and their love will die someday. The husband will take a  _hetera_  or a lover, and the wife will be shut away in his home to bear his children. The love of men is fleeting. It is the way of things."

"He told her how much he loved her, that he would never leave her," Kore said, walking beside Demeter. She watched her mother shake her head, a disappointed grimace on her face. Kore knew that look well. "And… and he said that he was so very happy the gods had let him find her, Mother. That didn't sound fleeting to me."

Demeter stopped and turned to Kore, trying to keep irritation from creeping into her voice. "Child, you might be aeons old, but you are still young in the ways of the world. The only lasting love is that between a mother and her children. I am sparing you the agony of a husband who lords himself over you, then breaks his oaths and your heart. Please learn from my folly, my bitter experience. This is what's best."

Kore wilted as they resumed their walk through the field. Twilight descended, washing the fields in a pale pink. A tall oak rose over the hill as they crested it. Maybe her mother was right. After all, her father had left Demeter to wed another, and even then had not found his wife's attentions to be enough. The ongoing tales of his philandering had been impossible to avoid. But not all men were Zeus, were they? "Maybe it would be different for me," she muttered under her breath.

Demeter spun about to face her. "No, it most certainly would not. And don't ever believe any man who would tell you otherwise, Kore. Men will say and do anything to have… that."

"Have what?"

"What they all want: a girl's maidenhead. They think to possess and own a woman once they take it, and they will say anything, do anything, to claim it. What you saw the man doing to that woman in the tent was all he wanted or cared to have from her."

"Doing  _to_  her? But she," her cheeks burned and her voice grew small, "she looked like she enjoyed it."

"Did she now?" Demeter knit her brow. "At first, even?"

Kore recalled the pain on the Eleusinian woman's face, the anguished cry. "No. But—"

"You saw how he hurt her when he took her. Kore, she clung to him out of desperation, not love, through the rest of the act once she realized what he had done— that she was a maiden no more. It is what is expected of wives. They must submit to the demands of their husbands. If she did not, he would have taken it from her anyway and with greater harm to her. When women fall foolishly into the bonds marriage— or worse and more often these days, when they are  _sold_  by their fathers— then they are obligated to submit their bodies to their husband. The woman you saw today only chose to go along with him to avoid more pain than he had already caused her."

Kore looked at the ground and felt tears sting the corners of her eyes before she willed them away. Ownership. Submission. The loss of her very self if she were no longer a maiden— no longer Kore. Her wise mother was right. It was foolish to wish for a husband, despite the softness and love and unbounded joy she had witnessed. What if Demeter's prediction was correct and they despised each other later and her husband strayed from her so he could claim another? Perhaps she should be glad that she was to remain a maiden, just like her cousins Athena and Artemis, and would never endure the shame of that.

"And those poor mortals," Demeter went on. "Half the women don't even survive childbirth. Including the woman you saw today."

Kore looked up at her mother in horror. "That can't be true! Please tell me that's not true."

"Kore, you know as well as I do that Eleusis calls on me to bear witness to their marriages. I can foresee their fates and that's the most likely cause of her inevitable death. I cannot stop her from passing to the Other Side."

"Mother, no! Please, these are your people! Surely there is something you can do?"

"It is not my role to decide who lives and who dies. And it is the natural order. All men and women must die, or mankind would overrun the earth."

"But can't you at least save just this one woman, Mother?"

"No, child. Those decisions are for the Realm of the Dead."

The look on her daughter's face made Demeter wish she hadn't let her current worries cloud her words. Even talking about that godsforsaken realm might pique Kore's boundless curiosity. The immortal Olympians shouldn't bother themselves with death anyway, and her little flower didn't need to trouble herself with these things. Kore was panic stricken, and looked helpless. Demeter immediately regretted filling her daughter's mind with such dreadful thoughts right before bed.

"Kore," she said, inclining her head and smiling. "You don't need a husband. On your own, you have a remarkable role to play in this cosmos. Flowers sprout, they live, then they wilt. These people are alive right now, and your gift teaches them to enjoy the fleeting days they do have, and to celebrate it with each other."

They passed under the sweeping branches of the great oak tree and stood outside Kore's bower. The Maiden turned her mouth up in a half smile at her mother's praise, and also remembered that there were others on Olympus she hadn't yet met— Aphrodite, for instance— who might be better able to answer these questions, if only she could find a way to visit them. "When are you next going to Olympus?"

"Not any time soon, dear. Today was... tumultuous. I won't be going for a long time, I expect," she saw disappointment cross Kore's face, remembering the promise she'd made earlier that day. "I'm sure everything will clear up some day. I'll take you then."

"So, I will see you tomorrow morning for the harvest?"

"Of course." She kissed Kore on the cheek before vanishing with a rustle of barley. "Sleep well, darling. You're safe here."

* * *

People throughout Hellas had built shrines of wood and living things to Kore and to her mother aeons ago, maintaining them generation after generation. Her private sanctums were always open to the sky, the sunlight, the honeybees and birds that helped her tend to the new shoots and flowers. One of Kore's favorite sacred places lay in this very clearing at the base of the oak tree. Clusters of white larkspur grew up the perfect circle of green willow shoots that served as her walls. Her ceiling was the vaulted branches and the stars wheeling above. The grass beneath her was soft, not wet with dew as it sometimes was, and strewn with rushes and violet petals upon which she made her bed.

As Kore lay on her side, she clasped her hands together and spoke a prayer in her own shrine, quietly pleading to Eileithyia, the goddess of childbirth, to watch over the newly married woman and deliver her from pain and death. Maybe she would get to speak to Eileithyia directly before it was too late.

Marriage. They seemed so happy, so content with one another. Her mother had never had that before and perhaps she was wrong. Demeter was not omniscient, nor was her mother one of the Fates. The wife in the tent could live and thrive with her husband and child, and make many new children. She may have created a child today.

Kore's body grew hot as she imagined making a child, the act of love. She quaked as images from the wedding swirled through her head, casting her into a fitful sleep. Her hands came up around her shoulders, her arms pressing against her breasts under the thin chiton. Kore dreamed. In her mind, she felt the woman's joy again and felt it returned. She was the married woman, and could feel the husband's arms holding her. Except she was still her maiden self lying in the grove and he was—

He was holding her. Kore felt his chest rise behind her and saw that the hands upon her arms were not hers. He was here, and  _holding her_  and she was leaning back into his embrace. Warm, strong hands rested on her arms, then traced down to the crooks of her elbows. Heat followed their path. The realization startled her— and startled the owner of those hands, she realized belatedly, feeling his fingers tense and relax on her skin when she stirred.

"Shhh… Persephone," a voice whispered in her ear. Persephone; the name her father had given her. It was her  _official_  name, she always knew, that lay beyond her mother and the nymphs calling her Kore,  _maiden_. "You're dreaming; there's no need to be frightened…"

She stayed still, not even daring to breathe. Who— why would he specifically call her this, or even know her true name? His voice had shaken just a bit, as though he were trying to assure himself that what he had said was true, that this  _was_  just a dream. The hands continued to move, lightly dropping from her elbows to her waist then traveling up her arms to her shoulders with a soft squeeze.

Only when his fingers touched her back did she realize that her chiton was gone. She was naked in front of… him. Kore's hands instinctively flew across her front to shield her mons, her stomach and breasts, but he gently pulled them away by her wrists, unwinding her. His careful, almost cautious movements made her breath catch in her throat, and when he didn't immediately caress what he had revealed, she relaxed. This wasn't real; it was only a dream. And he just felt so…

She knew that he spoke the truth. If this were indeed a dream, then surely she was safe. Wasn't she? Even if he tried to do something… unthinkable, she could wake up and escape him. Couldn't she? But as his hands moved back to her arms, her urge to wake, to leave him in the dream world, to leave the gentle stroking of his fingers, quickly diminished. Wordless answers to her unspoken yearnings after the wedding, as well as a pervasive calm, filled her the longer he touched her. His rich masculine voice rose slightly above the level of a whisper. "Let me look at you."

Kore felt the gentle stranger roll her onto her back, her eyes shut and her face turned away as he ran his hands down her outstretched arms. What was he? Who was he? Was he an  _oneiros_ from the dream world or some shadowy creature from the Other Side? She'd heard tales of their visits— some benevolent, some terrifying. Did his voice match or mask his true appearance? Would she scream if she saw him? She felt his eyes on her body, but kept hers closed. Fingers brushed through her hair, moving russet waves away from her face and tucking them softly behind her ear before his hand rested on her shoulder, deliberately—  _respectfully_ — avoiding the parts of her unseen by the sun. Kore felt the same coil form low in her belly, stronger than this afternoon, becoming an ache that made her hips move just to soothe it. No reprieve came.

"Open your eyes," she heard him whisper, his voice catching. Kore did so. She wanted to see who this was, a man who she had either conjured in her dreams or who had deliberately entered them. She needed to see what manner of man he was, but was afraid to look on him directly. With her head faced to the side, she first saw pale fingers brushing over her shoulder with short, smooth nails.

The moonlight danced along the shadows and rough contours of very male hands holding and caressing her. Kore's skin thrilled at the sight, and the ache became a dull, pleasant throb around a strange feeling of emptiness. She could feel the strain in his arms as he fought to keep his hands away from her breasts, fought to ensure that he didn't stray too far into intimacy and frighten her. A faint luminescence played under his skin, the tell tale sign that this was not a mortal man. He wasn't one of the frightful creatures mortals told their children about and swept from their homes at Anthesteria, either. Who was he?

Kore turned slowly toward him, taking in first the smooth defined muscles of his arms and wide shoulders, then the slope of his body pressed to the side of hers. His face loomed into view, a thin smile deepening as he examined her. He tensed, almost imperceptibly. Though his face remained steady, she saw the pronounced lump in his throat bob nervously, knowing that she was now studying him.

She stared up at him with her pale blue eyes, her lips parted in curiosity and wonder at his appearance. He was… she didn't have a word for it; she'd never looked at a man this closely. The sensation coursing through her— the tightening coil within, the quickening of her breath— gave her at least some sort of answer to what she felt today when she'd peered into the wedding tent. This was desire.

The eyes that met hers were wide and deep brown, almost black in the soft light and framed with black brows. Long, black curls of hair framed his moonlit face, falling away down his back. A narrow, trimmed black beard sat below wide soft lips and a regal aquiline nose. She felt the coil inside unwind into a flutter and gasped slightly.

They stayed that way, simply beholding one another before Kore felt his hand gently frame her face. He eclipsed her view, drawing closer. She sensed her whole body pulling toward his. His warm mouth tentatively brushed once over hers before capturing her lower lip between his, drawing her into a kiss. Kore had never been kissed before, and she realized she still hadn't. This was a dream. Wasn't it? He felt so real and warm and sweet. And the jolt his touch sent through her had her returning his kiss, her lips seeking out his and parting to enjoy him. His tongue darted across her teeth before she pulled back to see him.

"I never dreamed you would be this beautiful," he said quietly, trembling slightly, his baritone voice resonating low and intimate as he scanned the length of her body.

"What do you m-m—" she began, her voice swallowed by another kiss. This one was more insistent, and she felt her skin jump. Her hips rocked, her stomach tensed at the firmer press of his mouth against hers. It was only once she leaned into him that she felt something hard and hot pressed against her hip, eliciting a soft groan into her mouth and a shiver that moved like a wave along his entire body. She mewled a wordless question against his lips, wanting to ask who he was. His only response was to skim his tongue across her teeth until they opened, letting him taste her.

Kore heard him sigh as his hand traced up her ribs and settled firmly on her breast. Her nipple instantly tightened under his palm and she cried into his mouth at the unanticipated pleasure of it. He languorously stroked her tongue with his and tasted of ancient groves and deep, warm earth, and the cold, faint sweetness of a foreign flower she knew but couldn't quite place. With a gasp she broke off the kiss to look up at him again, her face and neck flushed, her lips tingling, her heart pounding. The cool night air moved over her hot skin.

He smiled down at her again. "You taste sweet… exquisite."

"Who are you?" she said, barely able to hear her own words as her heartbeat thrummed in her ears.

He froze at her question and darted his eyes from her gaze, taking in,  _memorizing_ , her face and neck, the lines of her collarbone. He reached for a lock of hair that had spilled over her breast. "This is your dream, remember? Tell me who I am," he said smiling, absently coiling the long brown tendril around a finger.

She narrowed her eyes at him, her tone firm. "If this is my dream,  _oneiroi_ , then answer my question. Who are you?"

He was hearing her true voice— that of a natural ruler. His smile widened at her fearlessness, even though he was twice her size and loomed over her, caging her body with his. "I am not an  _oneiroi_ , sweet one."

"What are you, then?"

"Deathless," he said simply. "Like you."

"Wh-who are you?" she whispered.

He slowly lowered himself to her, hovering just above her, the heat of his chest making contact with her, making her quiver, making her want to pull the weight of his body down to cover hers. He whispered in her ear. "I am your lord husband."

Her eyes grew wide and he settled his mouth on hers for another kiss. She felt everything tilt, and drop away underneath her as he lifted her at the small of her back, pulling her against him to sit up with him. He grasped her leg with one hand, positioning her in his lap. Her trembling legs splayed around his hips and her body was flush against his. For a moment the heat she'd felt earlier pressed and pulsed against her lower lips as they adjusted. He pulled back, his face filled with caution and longing. Instinctively, her feet locked around his lower back, raising her higher and breaking that brief, intimate contact. His arms supported her upright frame effortlessly. He brought her inches from his face, and his eyes darkened with intensity and heat, midnight black, and Kore suddenly felt very small again. "M-my husband?"

"Yes," he said, feeling her arms rest on either side of his chest and her fingers grip his shoulders. "And you will be my queen, Persephone."

He whispered her name to her and kissed her again, letting her hands move up to his neck and weave through the curls of his hair. She grew curious and snaked her tongue into his mouth.  _Did he say 'queen'?_  Kore felt him surge against her as she led in kissing him instead of being kissed. He tightened his arms around her, his control starting to slip. It sent a thrill through her, but she realized how dangerous her forwardness could be.

Physically, he could easily overpower her and take whatever he wanted. But he didn't. In her sensual haze she wondered nervously for a moment if he intended to enter her here and now— to make her his queen in the deepest sense. Kore shuddered at this idea, wondering if by just entertaining that thought within the dream, he would do just that. But he didn't. She felt one supporting arm grasp at her shoulder blades and the other move down her back and firmly cup the cheeks of her rear as he lifted them up. Still holding her, he rose up on his knees and laid her back down in the soft rushes, fitting his body over hers.

Kore felt the world tilt back and squeezed her legs tighter around him. She was entirely at his mercy. What would it feel like for him to be within her? Would he go gently, knowing that she was a maiden? If he tried to take her now, he could. But he didn't. He arched above her and carefully fanned out her lilac-strewn hair and stroked his fingers through it, brushing it back from her forehead. He cupped her cheek and made her shiver as his thumb trailed over her lips, her chin and down the column of her neck. He drew closer. Black curls fell from his head and down his back, forming a curtain around them. The oak tree was blotted out. The stars were gone. There was only her and him, her body blanketed by his above her, their tongues mating together in a kiss, the throbbing heat pressed hard against her inner thigh. His hips rocked forward of their own volition and she felt him grind against her skin, his breath hissing through his teeth.

In a bid to salvage his control, he broke away from their kiss and pressed his lips against her neck, lifting his body away from hers, making her shiver in the night air. He planted light kisses across her collarbone, molding a breast with his hand.

The sudden absence of his skin against her made her delirious, her thoughts rapidly shifting back and forth between relief at his restraint and wanting to draw him down again to quench the ache consuming her. Kore's body was on fire. She didn't want him to stop. She needed him to stop. She needed to know who he was. She didn't care who he was as long as he didn't stop. Her frustrations became a moan, the sound surprising her and encouraging him, when his lips wrapped around a taut nipple. The electric sensation of his tongue rasping against the very tip arched her body toward him and shot pleasure through the center of her. Kore's mind snapped into focus as his hand came between them and landed with a massaging squeeze on the nest of curls covering her mound.

"Wait…" she whispered.

He pulled that hand away instantly, his breath shallow. His arms tensed and he stared straight at her, straining between holding himself back and pressing onward, deciding, weighing her single word against their shared desire. He smiled at her before inhaling and letting out a long cool sigh, shutting his eyes. "You're right."

She felt relief tinged with longing, her body cursing her for stopping him. He pulled himself away from her with difficulty, and Kore felt the sudden cool rush of air over her as he settled at her side. He tilted her chin toward him.

"You're right, Persephone. When we have each other, it should be in the proper place— in my own bed, after I've claimed you."

Kore felt herself blush from the bottom of her feet to where he pecked a light kiss on the tip of her nose. She resisted tilting upward to kiss him again, to draw his body back down to her.  _Into her_ , she thought with a shudder. Was that what she wanted? What she needed? She didn't even know his name. But in every way else she felt him,  _knew_  him, and knew intuitively that she was his and he was hers. That potent knowledge coursed through her very veins.

"Please…" Kore licked her dry lips and stared up at him, "I need to find you. Tell me your name."

He smiled at her and caressed her cheek, a soft sadness in his eyes. Sighing, he bent down to kiss her in the middle of her forehead.

She jolted awake, sitting up, alone, her heart racing. The grove was empty and cold, but her body felt hot and her inner thighs were slick with liquid warmth. She brought her arms around her and felt only her chiton, the peaks of her breasts chafing against the thin linen. She was dressed as she was before. It  _was_  a dream. Gasping for air, she looked around for the powerful lover— her husband, he had said— who had been holding her seconds ago, and then glanced up into the oak tree.

A thin pale figure, wrapped in a cloak and silhouetted against the faint light, turned to meet her gaze before vanishing into mist. She barely had time to register if it was real or imagined before she heard a sparrow chirp. The first flicker of dawn licked the eastern sky. The light grew stronger, revealing that the white larkspur had turned dark crimson overnight. Within her shrine, a new and beautiful light gray flower sprang from the ground, surrounding her.

Asphodel.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

Kore touched the gentle flowers growing around her and shifted the coloring of her dress to a soft white, mimicking the color of the blossoms. How beautiful they were… like last night, like  _him_ , though she knew 'beautiful' was seldom applied to men, and was too soft a word for him anyway.

Asphodel… she was the Maiden of the Flowers and knew that's what these were intuitively, but tried to remember where she had heard the name— and what their significance was.

She had only ever seen asphodel growing as a gnarled dark gray weed. It was one of the few plants her mother would rip out of the fields wherever she had seen it. Kore had always trailed behind her, doing the same. She had never seen asphodel bud and blossom. The white blooms were thin, veined with a center line of crimson, six petals with bright filaments bursting from the center and ending in deep red anthers. They were beautiful and foreign.

The man in her dream returned to her thoughts. She shivered at the idea of kissing him again, of tangling her fingers in the jet black curls of his hair, and melting into the heat of his body pressed so close to hers. She picked one of the small flowers from its dark stalk and twisted its stem around a lock of hair, her russet waves matching the red veins of the flower. She smiled, studying it, then walked from plant to plant, picking one bloom from each, and expertly weaved them into a crown, placing it atop her head.

_And you will be my queen, Persephone._

Queen… he'd said 'queen'. Not wife, but something more. Something greater. What would he think of her now, in her simple linen shift, her hair hanging loosely like a child's? She wanted to change her clothes to something more womanly: lengthen it, cover her knees and legs in sumptuous, fine-spun wool, and drape a soft mantle over her shoulders but resisted the temptation. Demeter wouldn't approve, and would insist that Kore keep her youthful short chiton.

She wondered what he would like to see her wearing. Kore imagined him standing behind her and kissing her neck as she wore a beautiful burgundy peplos held up by bronze fibulae, and a girdle of bronze and polished sard stones, but her imagination quickly turned to him unhooking it from her waist with a flick of his wrist and pushing the gown off her shoulders to hold her against his body, as he had in the dream. Kore blushed, fairly certain that if she asked him what he wanted to see her in, his answer would be 'nothing at all'. She leaned back onto the bark of the great oak tree, remembering his hands stroking her body, both of them as naked as the day they were born, caressing each other under its sprawling branches.

"Persephone," she said quietly, remembering him whispering her true name, his lips grazing her neck. She faintly felt the same coil tighten in her belly she had felt with him last night, the same sensation she felt at the Eleusinian wedding. Kore crossed her arms over her breasts and closed her eyes, wanting him to appear to her again. If she willed it enough, would he come to her as he had last night?

_The love of men is fleeting. I am sparing you the agony of a husband who lords himself over you, then breaks his oaths and your heart._

Her mother had said she wasn't to marry. She was just Kore, the Maiden of the Flowers, not a queen, not his queen. These thoughts were dangerous. And it was all just a dream, anyway. But if he were not real, if the dream was just a dream, then why were these flowers here? Had he left them for her?

_Maybe it would be different for me._  She remembered her words to her mother.

_It most certainly would not. And don't ever believe any man who would tell you otherwise, Kore._ What a fool she must be to moon over flowers, of all things. Flowers—  _her_  domain, even! But he hadn't taken anything from her or trespassed on her. He didn't grow bolder with his touch until she wanted it— until he felt her respond to him and ask for it with each gyration of her body against his. Her lips against his…

She felt ice pour over her. Demeter! Her mother was supposed to arrive any minute and they were to spend the morning together preparing the fields of Eleusis for reaping. She heard the familiar rush of barley, and looked around, panicking for a moment, wondering how she would explain the new color of larkspur that had appeared overnight.

"Kore?"

"Coming, Mother!" She blanched and tried to push the dream from her mind before stepping out of her room. Kore would meet her outside. Maybe Demeter wouldn't notice the changed flowers. She pulled herself together, took a deep breath and put on a bright smile.

"Are you ready yet?"

Kore skipped out of the bower. "Good morning!"

Demeter's own smile quickly turned to horror when she saw her daughter.

"Where did you get those?"

"Get what?" Kore said, confused.

"The asphodel! Where did you find these poison weeds?!" she said, snatching at one of the flowers in Kore's hair.

She ducked out of the way as Demeter tried to pull at another. "Mother! What's the matter with you?! They started growing this morning in my—"

Demeter cupped her hands over her mouth with a gasp, not giving Kore time to finish her sentence before she ran into the shrine.

"Mother, why are you— Mother!" Kore stumbled in to find Demeter kneeling in the rushes amidst the newly grown flowers, tearing them out root and stalk.

Demeter turned to look at her daughter, her hands shaking. Her eyes were stained with tears, and her voice became a whisper as she looked around wide-eyed and pale. "He was here."

Kore's face paled as ashen white as the flowers that were withering in her mother's clenched fists.  _Gods above, she knows; she knows who he is._ She swallowed hard. "Wh-who was here?"

"Do not lie to me! Did he hurt you?"

Her eyes started to water. "No, Mother, there was no one here. No one hurt me. It was just a dream. I woke up surrounded by these pretty white flowers."

Demeter grew angry, her eyes flashing, her voice low. "If that monster laid a finger on you…"

Kore blushed at the memory of his fingers, then felt her voice and breath catch in her throat, tears spilling from her eyes. "Mother, please! It was just a dream. I saw someone in it,  _I think_ , and then when I woke up— I told you— I was just surrounded by all these flowers."

Demeter stood up and took her by the wrist and marched out of the sacred place. "Dear child, you are no longer safe here," she panicked, her voice wavering. Kore heard the rushing of barley around them. Her mother prepared to transport both of them away, as she did herself when she visited the great mountain.

"Where are we going? Olympus?" Kore said, following her.

"No, we mustn't. You are in even greater danger there. We are going to the fields of Nysa. Pallas Athena and Artemis, the virgin warriors, will watch over you just as they always promised me they would if  _trouble_  came."

"But what about the harvest?"

"It can wait! They all can wait," she turned to Kore, brushing her tears away as the stalks of barley wound into the silver filaments of the ether, opening a pathway over land and sea. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you, my child."

"But nothing is wrong! I'm right here, Mother! And you're sending me away? At the harvest of all times?"

"There will be aeons of harvest for us Kore, but not if we stay here."

Kore clenched her jaw silently and looked down, hiding her anger from Demeter. She wanted to see him again, and hiding in Nysa would make that impossible.

* * *

"Your Excellency, I simply did what you asked of me." Even in the Underworld, the Lord of Dreams stood in shadows, his face hooded, his blind eyes veiled.

"Morpheus, I asked you to send me to Persephone so that I could introduce myself to her as her betrothed. Not to have us meet in the dream world naked and embraced!" Hades Aidoneus felt his frustration rise. White-hot memories of holding Persephone shuddered through him unbidden.

"I manifested what was in your heart of hearts. My world is not the waking world. You just can't walk into it with expectations of—"

"You saw us together!"

"I see  _all_  in the dream world. Do you really think I just sat there and watched both of you through the night? And honestly, Aidoneus, what I did see was relatively tame. For Fates sake, I have to preside over Thanatos's dreams, and let me tell you—"

Hades narrowed his eyes at him, his silent anger filling the room, palpable enough to be felt by Morpheus.

"Aidon, truthfully—" he said, stepping out of the marble column's shadow, "How you came to her, what you saw, what you did— all of it was of your own making. I am not responsible for the desires of your heart, and I will not be the focus of your anger over it. Those feelings are yours to contend with."

Aidoneus shifted uncomfortably between the wide arms of his ebony throne. He had arrived in the dream unclothed, holding her thin arms, his body pressed against her back. Morpheus had given Aidon the choice of appearing to Persephone in false form, or as himself. But the way he had come to her in the dream, the way he had felt when he was with her, the words he had dared to speak to her, were almost as unfamiliar as she was.

Morpheus felt the Lord of the Underworld's anger relent as Aidon retreated into thought. "If that is all…"

"Yes. Go, my friend. You need to prepare for tonight, and I've kept you long enough."

Morpheus drew out a thin gray arm and wrapped his black cloak around him before disappearing into mist. Aidoneus stood up and descended the stairs of the olivine dais. The room was still, and his footsteps echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to the torch lit terrace outside.

Its view swept out over the river Styx, silently flowing broad and dark across the fields below. He felt the cool air of the Underworld wash over him and sighed, leaning on the balcony edge. Aidoneus dug his fingers into his temples and closed his eyes. Next to the terrace was a waterfall that flowed upward along the cliff, its roaring cascade feeding the rivers of the corporeal world above. The sound of the falls and the cooling mist that fell from it usually gave him some measure of peace, but it couldn't soothe him now. The Lord of Dreams was right.

He took the golden arrow out of his robes and held it in his hand, turning it over. This small thing had only scratched his palm, and now her face was everywhere in his mind, awakening potent and dangerous feelings where there had been none before. He thought only about her flower-strewn hair, her pale arms and small breasts. The gentle curve of her hips. Her legs. The warmth between them.

Aidoneus pulled himself away from the balcony and walked back in, still clutching the arrow. Persephone had been only a name to him— the daughter of Demeter who was to be his queen— but was now made flesh, a woman. He had often wondered about her over the aeons, but had not expected to arrive in the dream world and find himself holding her so intimately, his body readily responding to the closeness of hers. All rational thought had vanished the moment he looked into her eyes. The small, inviting sounds she'd made in response to his touch had driven him mad… and continued to do so…

He would throw this cursed arrow headlong into the river if it weren't so dangerous— if he didn't already know the powerful consequences it had for him, and the unknown feelings it could bestow on others.

"Lord Hades," a rich female voice said. He turned to see a woman wrapped in a dark crimson peplos and cloak. Her long red hair, partially held up with a silver ribbon, cascaded down her back. Round selenite beads adorned the crown of her head, sweeping down to hold a silver half moon charm over her forehead. Hecate. Her bare feet were tucked up underneath her as she sat on the base of a column in the corner of the great chamber.

Aidon's breath hitched. "Have you found her?"

"The field from your dream was Eleusis. Demeter's and Persephone's worshippers reside there."

"I will go to Eleusis tonight, then."

"She's no longer there," Hecate said calmly. "I can see their thoughts… You'd think Demeter would be more careful. If she is traveling through the ether, I can find them."

"Why did they leave?"

Hecate closed her eyes to look into the ether. Within its hidden world were feelings, hopes, curses, the past, the future, the present, all flowing together in a chaos she alone could interpret. Hecate searched for Demeter and Persephone and tried to pluck the first coherency she could grasp. A smile crossed her face. "Did you plant asphodel in her shrine?"

"No," he said, confused, "I— Wait; is that a euphemism for something?"

Hecate opened her eyes and snickered quietly against the back of her hand. "No, my lord. I was being quite literal. I saw asphodel flowers, your own sacred blooms, growing where she sleeps. That made me curious— perhaps you had her, and wanted to make it known? In her dream, are you sure you didn't—"

"Dishonor her? No. I almost…" That part he remembered very clearly. Aidon swallowed, then gritted his teeth together. The need to be with her—  _within her_ — had bordered on pain. The memory of nearly losing control at her moan of pleasure, right before she stopped him, welled up through him. He turned away. "What is happening to me? I can't stop thinking about her; it's as if she's possessed me."

"Aidon, this is a new sensation for you; do not fear it, or fear the confusion that it brings," she said calmly. "You have only begun to glimpse how powerful these feelings truly are. Love is why most mortals call upon my priestesses. They work magic with my gifts, spells that can swell the desire of men and gods alike, giving them furious passion powerful enough to make them rend their own flesh."

"Zeus's little winged demon poisoned me!"

"And what a sly little monster he is, isn't he? Drawing forth  _your_  greatest desires with his arrows…" He narrowed his eyes at her, the words ringing true. "I assure you, Aidon, there was no poison on that arrow. The wound Eros made only broke the lock on your heart and set free what was waiting inside."

He put the arrow back into the folds of his robe.  _What was waiting inside_ … Aidon didn't know which prospect disturbed him more: that this had opened up in the first place, or that these feelings had been roiling under the surface unseen… for aeons, perhaps. "If Eros opened that door, then you need to close it, Hecate."

"So soon, Aidoneus? You've seen this treasure— tasted it, I dare say— and you'd have me shut it away again? I wonder why would you ask me to do this."

"Because this was supposed to be simple. Ordered," he said sharply, pacing the stone floor. "I've received what was due to me for my part in the war. She's already consecrated to me— I was to have my queen, and we would rule together. All I had to do was… take her and be done with it. Now it's been complicated by these… desires… to—"

"To win her? To make her love you?"

He thinned his lips and turned away from Hecate.

"Your influence here is great, but not all souls bend to your will. Not even your own, hmm? Our destinies are mysterious, Aidon; they are woven with threads we do not always expect to see. Even if you don't trust the weavers, you may be certain that they weave with a pattern in mind."

"The Olympians don't have to contend with this! Their adoration lasts only as long as their lust. Where are these 'mysterious weavers' for them?"

"Aidoneus, look…" she said, motioning to the inverted waterfall outside. "The rivers of their world don't flow like ours, or carry as much meaning. Our ways are not their ways. This is Chthonia; the Other Side."

Hecate closed her eyes, her mind prodding and exploring the ether, searching for signs of Persephone.

Aidon thought about the flowers growing where they lay together in the dream. He couldn't have grown a weed from the richest soil if the safety of the living world depended on it; Persephone had brought them to life herself. But why out of all the flowers did she choose his? He had taken great pains to conceal his identity to her.

"Oh, I see," Hecate said, her eyelids fluttering as she followed the trail of thoughts emanating from Persephone. Her silent smile turned into a light laugh. "She grew them while she slept, from the seeds you planted in her dream. Your true nature may yet be shrouded to her eyes, but another part of her knows you very well indeed." Hecate's gaze darted to his face.

Then Hades did something he had never done before in all his ageless years. He blushed.

"And every larkspur in existence, which for all the ages have been white, are now crimson, purple and pink? Hades Aidoneus, whatever did you do to her?" she said in a singsong voice, a wide smile on her face.

"Enough!" He looked away from Hecate.

"I daresay you did enough, indeed." Hecate smirked, until she felt confusion wash over him. Her face softened and she spoke gently. "Why feel shame, Aidon?"

"Because I'm not supposed to feel…  _alive_! Look around you. These foolish— these  _dangerous_  passions have no place here!"

"So certain, are you?" Hecate silently walked across the floor to him and reached out a hand to his forehead, which he let rest there. "What you feel for her is not as far outside our world as you think. Open your mind."

Her eyes closed and she spoke to him in the three voices of her aspects, the Maiden, the Woman, and the Crone. He closed his eyes as her fingertips moved to his temples. Aidoneus felt her reach further from where her fingers met his skin, touching the deepest parts of his mind, restoring order to his thoughts, soothing him. He breathed out as the chaos and confusion that had plagued him since he awoke was given shape and form. Feelings gained sigils and signifiers through her intervention. Need. Purpose. Longing. Desire. Rapture. Lust.

"Love," the voice of the Maiden said.

"I never thought that word."

"You didn't have to," the three voices answered.

Hecate watched the maelstrom of thoughts flash through his mind. The past. The feel of her soft skin, the press of her naked flesh, their mutual need. Hands running through hair, lifting, entangling. The present. Cypress and wind; fire and union in the void.

The future. Red flowers clinging to a tree that rose from the field of gray, branches entwining through others' branches. Red, ripe fruit hung on interlocked boughs. Radiating out from the tree came soft grasses and flowers that spread over immeasurable ground. Hecate imparted in three voices what she saw. "Embrace and cherish these visions, Hades Aidoneus. They belong to both of you."

Aidon opened his eyes. Hecate was again seated on the column base as though she hadn't moved at all. In all likelihood, she hadn't.

"You need to feel her again and know that she feels you— don't you, Aidoneus?" Her voice was once again singular.

"Yes," he whispered hoarsely. "Yes, I do."

"I will search for Persephone for you," she said, and closed her eyes. Silence filled the room, and Hades stood still, waiting. A moment later, Hecate spoke of her vision.

"Nysa," Hecate said, reaching into the earth goddess's mind from afar. "She's sheltering Persephone in Nysa."

"The fields of Nysa?" Aidon shook his head in partial relief. "If I can count on Demeter at all, it's to not think anything through when she's angry," he said under his breath.

"It's too early for dreams; don't bother waking Morpheus. You must go to her yourself, but Demeter must not see you, or sense your presence at all. She is ever alert to you and the Helm will not help you. I'll send you in the wind this time."

"How will I find Persephone?"

"You won't have to. She will come to you."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

Demeter and Kore emerged from the blades of barley into a rolling grassy meadow surrounded by groves of trees, each grove sacred to a deity. Nysa was the eternal field of the gods, and Kore's home as a child. She had played with her friends here. Kore remembered Ares swinging a wooden sword against the grasses under the watchful eye of Hera. Little Apollo once brought her a fistful of larkspur and recited awkward love poetry, to her mother's great consternation. Athena and Artemis ran with her in the field and played games of knucklebones by the creek. When Kore flowered into womanhood, her mother abruptly took her from their company and she hardly ever saw them again.

"Kore!"

She heard her cousin Artemis call to her from the edge of the valley. She jogged toward them with her long, sandal-strapped legs. Artemis wore a quiver of arrows on her back, its leather strap holding her short white hunting chiton against her body. The virgin huntress's honey colored hair was short and simple, coiffed into a messy chignon at the base of her neck. She waved a hand to them as she ran.

Kore waved back, then turned to Demeter. "How long do I have to stay here?"

"Until I know for certain that you're safe. I will tend the harvest alone this time." She held Kore close and kissed her on the cheek. "They will look after you, my child. Do not leave the meadow. Do not talk to anyone or anything while I'm gone."

Kore watched her mother vanish into a rush of barley, bound for Eleusis. Nysa was the perfect place to keep her while she attended her responsibilities to the mortals. The virgin goddesses were usually here during harvest time. The humans seldom waged war during harvest, which freed Athena, and seldom hunted, which relieved Artemis of some of her responsibilities. They tended to avoid Olympus during the harvest as their divine siblings were usually bored and making mischief. Both Artemis and Athena were younger than her, but looked older, having already fully taken on their divine roles. Although she felt a faint twinge of envy, Kore was thankful to see them. Artemis, athletic and sun flecked, bounded over to Kore and gave her a hug. "Finally we get to see you again!"

"Artemis!" she embraced her back. "I wish it were under better circumstances. I feel like I'm imposing."

"Nonsense." Fair-haired Athena stood up from the grasses next to them, and quickly rolled up a short scroll before stashing it in the folds of her peplos. She adjusted the plate armor that held her flowing gown in place and joined their conversation. "We will make them better," she said. "And don't worry. Arte and I scour the plain regularly this time of year in case any troublemaking satyrs come along. Brutish creatures… You're perfectly safe here."

Kore smiled thinly to hide her feelings from Artemis and Athena. That meant the man from her dream wasn't here and would most likely never find her. She absently picked the last remains of the asphodel out of her hair. Her mother had cowed her about the flowers throughout the journey to Nysa until she had relented and plucked most of them out. "What were you doing before I arrived? Can I join you?"

"Well," Artemis said, "as soon as we heard you were coming, we started making a garland for you, because we hadn't seen you in so long. But… you know me; I'm no good with flowers."

"We hope you like it," Athena added, shyly holding it out for Kore's examination. The garland was a tidy braid of laurel and olive sprigs laced with wild celery, whose tiny white blossoms provided the only break in the greenery.

"Oh, thank you!" Kore said, accepting the gift from her cousin's calloused hands. She sat down in the soft grass and let Artemis wind her hair into a coronet.

"Your dress is still so short," Artemis said. "Do you keep it that way for the hunt?"

"No, I don't hunt like you, Arte," she said, smiling and lowering her head to hide her embarrassment.

Athena spoke. "Well, have you ever thought about letting it down?"

Kore looked at her bare knees and blushed. "Mother doesn't approve."

Athena stepped in front of Kore and pointedly looked to the right, then the left. She smiled and leaned down. "I don't see her here to disapprove. Come on! You can change it back when she gets here. We won't tell."

Kore fidgeted for a moment. "I'm— I can't do that to her. I've already put her through enough for one day."

Athena gave her a pained smile. "I understand. Sorry; I didn't mean to upset you."

"There! And beautiful, I might add." Artemis finished winding and weaving Kore's hair and placed the garland on top.

_Persephone…_

She froze, hearing her name on the wind.

"Who's there?" She looked at her cousins, her eyes wide. "Did… did you hear that?"

Athena and Artemis stilled and exchanged a quick glance. Artemis swallowed. "H-hear what?"

"Nothing… it must have been my imagination," she said, walking into the field.

Athena and Artemis joined her, keeping back aways as Kore explored her girlhood home. She had spent her childhood in the shadow of the sacred groves of the Olympians. As a young girl, Kore had laid a circle of river stones in the meadow and filled it with all her favorite flowers, hoping someday to have a sacred grove of her own.

"Do you remember the secret garden I planted?"

Athena smiled. "Of course I do! But it wasn't as big a secret as you thought it was. Father loved it! Said it was his favorite 'sacred grove'. I think your mother knew about it too."

"Oh," Kore blushed. "I'd wondered what happened to it. Want to visit it with me?"

"We'll finish gathering the leftover twigs from the garland. And I think I may take another pass around the meadow," Artemis said, "Can we join you later?"

"Of course!" Kore said cheerfully as she walked off into the grasses.

 _My queen…_  the wind whispered.

Her heart thrummed in her ears. She recognized that voice and turned in its direction, a narrow grove of cypress. Kore looked back at Artemis and Athena, still bent over in the grass picking up remnants of her floral crown. They must not have heard it. She walked slowly, one foot cautiously following the other toward the cypresses, her heart beating out of her chest.

Athena looked up to see her walk away. Demeter had enlisted their protection long ago in case anyone came for Kore. She shuddered, remembering dark Aidoneus stalking through the throne room toward her father yesterday, demanding his rights to Kore as Demeter cried out against it. Athena looked back to Artemis, who was biting her lip, her eyes welling up with tears. The huntress looked away to watch Kore walk toward the cypress trees, and moved to stand up and follow after her.

"Don't," Athena whispered, clasping her sister's trembling hand. "Father told us not to interfere. It will be alright, Artemis."

* * *

Demeter planted one foot after another in the sun-warmed soil. The Eleusinian priestess had plucked a single sheaf of barley and held it aloft, signaling the start of the harvest early this morning when Demeter had returned, sight unseen to oversee them. The priestess's acolytes had wandered through the fields all afternoon pouring offerings of  _kykeon_  and honey on the freshly threshed earth, singing praises to Demeter and Kore, carrying their effigies before them. The wheat waved across the fields, a sea of ripe sheaves that shone in the sun like swells on the ocean. Walled Eleusis stood on the other side of the hills, a beacon of rough-hewn white stones and whipping saffron banners. Wisps of white clouds moved across the azure sky, traveling on the breeze that wafted across the Eleusinian fields. Under an oak tree by the creek, a few elder women wrapped in dark linen himations, their backed bowed with age, hobbled after naked laughing children. They nattered after them to stay in the shallows and not splash too much water at the littlest ones. A toothless man with wisps of a white beard clinging to his face shared a cup of  _kykeon_  and laughed with his equally ancient wife.

The villagers dressed in bright reds and golds, the women with the hems of their  _peploi_  gathered up into their girdles, their hair wound back with strips of linen into tight chignons. They would stoop to gather large bundles of wheat, carrying them over to the ox drawn cart, giving the beasts a few sheaves here and there to keep them content. Most of the men dressed in nothing but loincloths, their skin glistening as they labored under the bright sun, sickles flashing. The rhythmic thresh of iron blades drummed a steady beat under their gossip and laughter.

Demeter was invisible in their midst, and could barely hear them. Hades was coming for her only child and she was preparing herself to meet him directly, to protect Kore from the Lord of the Underworld at all costs. She wiped a tear from her eye. Her daughter was safe for now in Nysa, but it was only a matter of time before he learned where she had fled.

She came upon the thistle her daughter had planted yesterday, its bright purple crown host to two of the little orange butterflies. They flitted around each other, one giving chase to the other before they settled, joined together on the flower. The small display of the earth's fertility and Kore's innocent wisdom should have given her joy, but she gritted her teeth, only able to see ghostly stalks of asphodel in her mind. The tall thistle withered, its flower drooping and blackening as she walked away.

Hades had profaned Kore's sacred house with his ugly bog flowers. He'd sown them around her daughter's sleeping body. Demeter angered, and the ripe silvery sheaves around her shriveled and turned brown. She walked away from the withered millet, barely aware of the dismayed voices of the villagers behind her.

There must be a way she could save her daughter from the Land of the Dead. She thought of the beautiful and virginal naiad queen Daphne, lustfully pursued by Apollo. To save herself from rape and destruction she had cried out to Gaia, the earth, who had answered her desperate prayers. Gaia had turned Daphne into a laurel tree, and she was saved and made sacred for all time.

For a moment she stopped breathing and stood where she was. The barley around her turned from living gold to dead gray. How could she even contemplate such a thing?

All she loved about Kore was wrapped up in her free spirit. Demeter thought about her light, her life, her every footprint filled with larkspur and roses, and the new ones— lilac, she remembered— flourishing wherever she went. She was pure and fresh and honest. Even in her defiance…

Demeter's eyes filled with tears. How could she let all these things about her daughter be wrested away to the land of the dead? For everything about her to turn cold and lifeless under the earth when she was made into Persephone? If she did nothing, Kore would be sacrificed on the marriage bed of the Lord of Souls.

Ice filled her heart. If she did this to their daughter, Zeus would never forgive her. She would be banished from Olympus, her high seat among the  _Dodekatheon_  removed, and she would be cursed to walk the earth as a minor goddess. But at least Kore would be safe. At least Demeter would know that her beloved daughter was saved forever from that fate. When Hades came to claim her, all he would find would be a new tree— a beautiful, flowering tree to honor her. Kore would be the loveliest tree in existence. Demeter wept. The waves of barley next to her rotted on the stalk and the grains filled with poisonous red dust.

Demeter would bring her back to Eleusis and Kore would be these people's sacred tree for all time. She sobbed, remembering her sweet girl toddling through the fields of Nysa as a young child. She knew that she would never see Kore running through the field, never hold her, never see her weave another garland or give life to another new flower, and her daughter would never forgive her for it. But if she did nothing, her warm and vibrant Kore would be trapped for eternity in the gray nothingness of the Other Side, prey to the will of cold and unfeeling Aidoneus.

* * *

The crisp smell of cypress met her as she stepped into the shade. Kore's eyes adjusted to the dappled light of the grove, and she saw soft wild celery covering the shaded soil with bursts of white asphodel growing in the patches of sunlight. Defiantly, she picked the flowers and wove them into the garland crown her cousins had given her.

The grove was silent except for her breath. In the meadow she had either heard his voice calling to her, or she was going mad. She picked a tiny asphodel bloom and twirled it in her hand. Her body warmed, feeling his presence. "Listen to me… I know you're here! And I know you came to me in my dreams last night."

Cypresses boughs rustled thinly as a breeze swept through their upper branches. She looked up, searching for him. "Why did you bring me here? And why did you plant the asphodel in my shrine last night?"

The wind in the grove closed in around her, words forming in its wake. "Your crown…"

Kore touched the flowered wreath in her hair. "You don't like it?"

"On the contrary," the wind whispered to her, "Your bridal crown is beautiful…"

"Bridal crown," she echoed breathlessly, her voice faltering as she remembered his words from last night. She reached without thinking to the wreathed branches. Her heart jumped into her throat when she realized what she was wearing: laurel and olive were for weddings. Kore looked around her, wishing she could see him.

"When I take you as my queen, Persephone, your crown shall be every jewel in the earth. Every ounce of its wealth will be your adornment…"

She spun in a circle, wishing she could find a source for his voice. It made her dizzy, this phantom wind, and these thoughts of leaving here with him, of being a queen, showered in wealth and jewels. And strange too, how he kept saying the name her father gave her.

"Why do you keep calling me Persephone?"

"It is who you truly are," Aidoneus said on the wind. "It's who you were born to be."

He wanted to give her anything. Anything and everything. His heart and mind raced at merely seeing her, knowing that she was real, just as beautiful as she was in the moonlight and not some illusion of dreams conjured by the golden arrow to torment him. When she was with him last night, she was a woman. A sensuous woman with delicate curves and warm skin. But she looked like a girl in the daylight, her clothes too young, too loose fitting, disguising her hips, her breasts… Aidoneus shuddered. He wanted to see her as she was. Who she truly was…

A breeze whipped past and she felt warm hands on her shoulders and arms. She flinched involuntarily, then settled into their grasp. "And what do I call  _you_?"

His mind raced, thinking of all the horrifying things Demeter must have said about him. And not just her mother. Hades was a curse word to the mortals— only the gravest of sworn oaths invoked his name. But he had to tell Persephone something. He willed himself to coalesce enough to touch her and with a sigh of the wind, brush past her lips. "Please call me Aidon."

"Aidon…" she repeated, her voice smoky from his light touch.

"Yes…" He felt himself quicken when she said his name for the first time. Relief washed over him as she relaxed, unafraid. He brushed past her breasts, feeling the nipples pull taut under the thin chiton.

Kore felt his breath, warm against the shell of her ear, and felt arms encircling her as though the breeze itself were embossed with his form. The fresh and woody smell of cypress filled her, and she let out a soft sigh.

Aidon could feel her, not just in the dream world, but real and present. He was the very air around her, engulfing her. She was no figment of his dreams. He could feel the pulse of every vein, every twitch of flesh, and every small bead of perspiration as her heart beat faster from his incorporeal touch. His senses were suddenly filled with the heady scent of flowers. He concentrated, solidifying, wanting to touch her skin with his own hands.

Kore closed her eyes. He surrounded and embraced every part of her, lifting her gently. She could feel her heels start to rise from the ground, and the loose fabric of her sleeve slipped down one arm.

"I will come for you tonight, sweet one." Aidon tugged down the fabric and blew a kiss on her neck, whispering into her ear. "I'll come for you at sunset and we'll journey to my kingdom together with you as my bride. I promise. But forgive me; I couldn't wait that long to see you again."

Kore felt the edge of her chiton roll over her nipple. Her areola pulled taut, exposed to the air and to him. "Aidon…"

She moaned his name. Aidon felt pleasure roll through him and blew on her exposed nipple, watching her shudder and arch closer to him with a gasp. Kore felt a warm rush of air wrap its way behind her knee and around her hip. She felt a solid arm, a hand and fingers pressing into her skin.

She gasped as he encircled her, her feet finally lifting off the ground, her body supported by invisible arms before being set down on the soft wild grass. The skirt of her chiton blew back, exposing her thighs.

"You're almost too beautiful…" he whispered, his voice sounding as though he were smiling, though she couldn't see him.

"This isn't fair," Kore pleaded. "I want to touch you, too… I want to hold you…"

This woman he'd patiently waited aeons to have… she desired him; she wanted him. Aidon's heart swelled at the idea. She wanted to do all the things with him that he needed to have from her. To hold him. To touch him. To lay down as husband and wife and— dare he even think it— to make love with him. "Soon, sweet one…" His hands trailed over her exposed breast and her stomach, dancing along her flesh. "…very soon."

Her body reached for his touch and he wanted to give her more.  _Anything._   _Everything._  He was overwhelmed. Aidon would give anything in this moment to materialize in front of her, to be as they were in their dream. He knew too that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from having her completely, and doubted she would stop him either. Moving across her body, he caught the scent of wildflowers again and delved for its source.

A hot exhale of air teased the curls between her thighs. Kore arched and parted them, feeling a hand brush over her mound. Unlike last night, she didn't stop him. He was mesmerized by the sight of her most intimate places, her deeper mysteries unknown to him. He wanted to bring forth everything he'd felt rise through her last night to completion. Her flesh jumped as he stroked her, learning her. Her creamy thighs were open to him, her scent pouring out on the wind. A fine down of dark brown curls covered her nether lips. He traced their seam; watching as her hips moved from side to side and her breathing became shallow.

Every shiver of her flesh, every arch of her body made Aidon's heart beat faster, urging him onward in his discovery. The tips of his fingers were met with slick warmth, and a punctuated gasp from Kore that made him inhale sharply, feeling the unfulfilled pains of his own arousal. Shaking with anxious longing, his fingers glided down to her entrance and lingered there for a moment before traveling upward slowly through the folds.

When he neared the apex, she let out a sharp cry and sprang back from his touch. Aidon instantly rose up along the length of her body, alarmed, smoothing his hand over her shoulder. "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "No. It… Can you please do that again?" she said meekly.

He smiled in relief and trailed his fingers downward through the valley between her breasts, over the tautness of her stomach, and gingerly steadied her mound with the palm of his hand. His finger met soft heat and sunk between her labia, tracing a path upward through the center until he felt her writhe anew. He stopped, memorizing the spot, feeling the tiny nub of flesh pulse under his finger. He waited for her to still and relax against him. When she rolled her hips forward and pressed the tight bud against his waiting finger, he started moving it in a slow circle.

The feel of his unseen hand stroking her filled her body with fire and familiarity, a longing she couldn't place for something she never knew she needed. Her hands and feet clenched and tingled, flames licking through her.

His winding finger moved faster. Every stroke of his hand against Kore's new-found epicenter shook her. Her lips, the tips of her breasts, her thighs twitched. Her voice wasn't hers anymore; it responded only to his caress. Every motion was a new thrill of pleasure. Something primal and inexorable began to wind within her, tightening every muscle of her body, searching, deepening, arching her closer.

Aidon felt her rising to him, her cries heating him and spurring him on. Her voice made his need a torture, unquenchable and unrelenting in his current form. He leaned over her and took the exposed nipple into his mouth and sucked it gently, driving her over an unseen edge.

Kore burst. Light danced behind her closed eyes and her head tilted back. She twisted and flailed, cried out his name and gasped, and the world fell away. Waves rolled through her as she felt his hand move away and travel up the length of her body to hold her. His lips teased along her cheek and she heard him breathing in time with her, steadying her body and supporting her until the tremors stopped and all she felt was his unseen hand grasping her arm.

"Persephone, I—" his voice shuddered.

Kore felt cool grass against her back, the soft earth beneath it supporting her, and then the caress of the wind was gone. He was gone. The grove was quiet once again, save for the sound of her heart beating in her eardrums.

* * *

Aidoneus materialized in his realm, and looked around in shock, drawn away from her against his will. He stumbled backward and slammed his palm hard on the edge of his ebony throne, regaining his balance. His knees were shaking. Desire for her had come with him. He looked down at his erect flesh straining against his loincloth and robes, and cradled it against his body, covering and protecting himself as he doubled over and gasped for air. His blood coursed through him like the molten river Phlegethon.

Aware of his presence, Hecate's eyes were closed, her brow knitted. "Aidoneus—"

"How dare you!" he bellowed, "Do you have any idea—"

"A very good idea, yes. But leaving you there with her would have been more dangerous than delicious, I'm afraid. There will be trouble…"

He watched her eyes tighten again as she concentrated, listening for a voice in the ether. He didn't have time for this. Hecate needed to take him back. Persephone needed him. He needed to see her. To hold her.

"I have to have her," he growled as he waited for Hecate to speak, willing his legs to carry him to where he could sit down. "I  _must_  have her. When the sun sets—"

Hecate flinched and cried out, startling him to silence. A voice piercing her mind— a wail of grief from the ether that was bending slowly into madness. "It will be too late!"

"What do you mean?"

"Demeter. She's coming for Persephone."

"She can't stand in my way; not now," he said, feeling his control slowly come back, his pulse steadying, his lust subsiding.

"She won't. Aidon, she will do worse. I understand now— I could feel her fear distilling into something sharp and desperate, but I was too focused on aiding your visit to Persephone. To keep you immaterial was not easy, with you in that state..." Hecate stood. "You are familiar with the tale of Daphne?"

A pregnant moment passed before his eyes grew wide. Realization and horror scalded him like acid and what little color he had drained from his face. "Gods above…"

He stood and strode across the room. Hecate followed him down the halls and corridors, running to keep pace. His himation shifted its form, winding around his body. The folds of fabric hardened, becoming the golden cuirass of his armor. Aidoneus had not worn it often, and never for its intended purpose since they cast Kronos into the Pit and ended the war. His long black cloak unfurled behind him as he stormed out to the courtyard. He reached through the ether as Hecate had taught him long ago and felt his helm materialize in his hand.

"Hades!" she said as he raised it over his head.

He spun on Hecate, his face contorted in rage. "I'll cast Demeter into the Pit if I have to!"

She started and drew back, then followed him again as Aidoneus continued his march. The corridor opened up into to the massive open stable yard of his palace, its floor made of concentric ringed cobblestones of black granite. He grabbed his iron standard from inside the gate and walked out to the center of the yard.

"This madness is not fixed by fate, Aidoneus! If Demeter reaches Persephone before you, be assured that the world will know her only for her slender branches and the gentle shade she gives. But such eternal changes have rules, and you can still prevent it. And you can save your bride in a more peaceful way than throwing the goddess of the fruitful harvest into the depths of Tartarus!"

He hammered the staff on the ground, the ringing echoing through the yard. Dark granite cracked beneath it, a glow of orange light radiating out from the point of impact. Aidoneus calmly strode back to Hecate's side as the stones fell away, lighting the room with reflected fire. She looked up at him, remembering aeons ago how Aidoneus had single-handedly convinced her and Nyx to support Zeus's cause during the war. That same taciturn warrior stood with her now, watching the rising smoke and listening to the approaching gallop of horses from the chasm.

"What way?" he said, finally.

Hecate looked into his eyes through the golden, black-crested helm that rendered him invisible to anyone he chose. She raised her voice as the ground beneath them started to shake. "Persephone can only be transformed that way if she is as Daphne was— intact."

Aidon's head snapped down to acknowledge the weight of what she said. A maelstrom of realization and trepidation ran through him, the helm barely hiding his emotions. "That's  _not_  how—"

With a shrill neigh, four dark coursers burst upward through the smoking gap, their manes and hooves sable black, their eyes glowing with fire. They pulled a great quadriga chariot behind them. It gleamed in the molten light from the chasm below, and then the ground started to close again with a grinding roar. The chariot had served Aidoneus well during the war, and would now serve him again. He returned the standard to the wall and stalked toward the cart. There was no time.

As Aidoneus grabbed the reins, a cloud of black smoke flowed out around the chariot, the chargers whinnying and stamping their feet. Hecate's voice rang out over the cacophony of the giant beasts. "If you love her, Aidoneus, if you want to save her, you will do what must be done!"

She watched from the gate as the chariot drove away. Aidoneus rode headlong for the living world and his Persephone.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**   _And in the grand tradition of excerpts, we end on a cliffhanger. My eternal thanks to all the people who commented on this book, who believed in me and believed in the success of this novel, those who pushed me to publish, the wonderful folks who created gorgeous fan art for this book, and especially those who donated to the Kickstarter that made publishing_ Receiver of Many _and_ Destroyer of Light _possible. For more details on that campaign, please visit my profile. I will update everyone as soon as the book goes live, which as I said in the introduction will be on **September 23, 2015**  for _Receiver of Many _, and **March 20, 2016**  for _Destroyer of Light _. Both books will be available in trade paperback through Amazon, and in ebook through Kindle, Nook, GooglePlay, iBooks, Kubu, and Smashwords. For more information, please visit my Tumblr, also listed in my profile. Again, thank you so very much, and I'll see you in September!_

_~ Rachel Alexander, aka Kata Chthonia_


	6. Destroyer of Light Excerpt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following is an excerpt from the forthcoming novel Destroyer of Light, sequel to Receiver of Many. Destroyer of Light will contain new, previously unpublished scenes, and I retooled some of the original text. Given that RoM's original length was over 275,000 words and given that I wrote nine new scenes between the two books, I had to split RoM into two parts: Receiver of Many and Destroyer of Light. Receiver of Many was published on September 23, 2015, and Destroyer of Light on will debut on March 20, 2016. Both books will be available in trade paperback through Amazon and CreateSpace, and in ebook through Kindle, Nook, iBooks, and Smashwords. For more information, please visit kata-chthonia dot com.

“You were stolen. Ravished.”

Persephone looked up at the shade in shocked silence.

“Weren’t you? You wouldn’t have abandoned us, would you?”

She stayed silent. “I—”

“But you are going back?”

“Yes.”

“You are escaping, then!” Her hand tightened around Persephone’s. “Quick! Let me help you! That is why you are on this side of the River, isn’t it? I can show you the path back to Eleusis!”

“No, I didn’t escape. This is my home now, and I—” the shade wrenched her hands away from Persephone’s and took a step back, her eyes growing wide. Persephone felt her mouth go dry as fear washed over the woman’s face. Her voice rose, pleading. “You don’t understand. I’m going back to see my mother. To reason with her. But I will return here after I do.”

“Then you— you  _ did _ abandon us…”

“Hades is my husband. I am his queen.”

“But everything is dying without you!”

Persephone swallowed. “I know. But I will set it right again—”

“Destroyer,” the woman whispered, shaking her head and backing away. “Destroyer!”

“No, please…” Persephone whispered.

“Destroyer!” another shade wailed as it wandered past. “Destroyer!” “ _ Katastrofeas! _ ” she heard in the common tongue. The voices blended together in Theoi, Attic, Thracian, and other languages. “ _ Despoina, torelle mezenai! _ ” “Persephone!” “ _ Ekeini pou katastrefei to fos! _ ” “Destroyer of Light!” “ _ Perephatta! _ ” “She who destroys the light!”

They weren’t speaking to her, but around her. It was as though her conversation had rippled outward, affecting the shades. The shoreline became a shrill chorus accented by wailing and sobbing.  _ Destroyer of light _ . Persephone felt ice pour down her spine and doubled over as though the wind were knocked out of her. Her very name and its meaning.

_ A balance has existed here for all the years you’ve been alive, Praxidike, _ Kottos had said.  _ You are the one who transcends and connects the worlds. You are the embodiment of balance… _

She was caught between her mother and her husband, and the fate of the world was bound up with her, just as the Hundred Handed Ones said it was.  _ No, please Fates, no… no, no, no… _

“Please, I didn’t mean to—”

“My Dimitris was right,” the shade hissed. “You weren’t there to bless us. You did nothing but curse us!”

_ Carrier of curses… _

“I didn’t… this wasn’t… Please, you must believe me,” Persephone cried, nearly hysterical. “I had no idea that it had become so terrible! It’s why I’m going back. I— Please, tell me what I can do to help you; to take away your pain. Please!”

“Take me with you.”

She blanched. “I am sorry, I cannot. I cannot.”

“I must see Dimitris. He needs me!”

“You cannot ask that of me! You know there’s no going back to the world of the living.”

“Please, Soteira, take me back!” she cried frantically.

“Do not ask this of me, please…” she said softly, seeing the other souls take notice.

The shades around them began to cry out to her, their voices a cacophony. “Aristi, my children!” “Metra, please, spare me…” “Just once more, Thea, let me see her once more…” “ _ Soteira, voithiste me! Voithiste me! _ ” someone cried out in the common tongue.

The shades circled her, begging her to spare them. The Eleusinian woman backed away from her, fading to translucence. “My lady, I cannot cross the River, yet. I’m not ready. I must see Dimitr—”

And with that she was disappeared— a soundless ghost bound for the world above.

Persephone crouched and shut her eyes. She clapped her hands over her ears to block the wandering shades out, crying loudly to drown their voices. They stopped their petitions and started weeping as she was. They milled about, wailing and moaning, their cries incessant as she huddled close to the ground, too distraught to rise.

Caught between her love for her husband and her mother’s love for her, she’d forgotten why she existed in the first place— for them. The mortals. To look after their eternal souls, not just when they were here, but during their brief time in the sunlit world. To feed them. To protect them.

“Kore? Persephone?”

It was a high tenor voice, almost lost to her amidst the weeping shades. It sounded so clear and distinct that she thought that it was an illusion.

“Lady Persephone!”

She looked up through her tears to see a young man wrapped in a chlamys, his face hidden by a golden petasos. He descended from above and landed next to her.

“Wh-who…” She knew who he was. Hermes. “Why are you here?”

He lightly took her hand, barely touching her fingers. “You’re free.”

“What?”

“Persephone, I was sent here by our father to bring you back to your mother, Demeter.”

“We never  _ asked _ for you to— what…” she drew in a breath as he grasped at her wrist. She wrenched it away from him. “Let go of me! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“You’ve been freed from Hades’s captivity. I’m here to bring you back to your home in the living world.”

******

——--

******

**Author’s Note:** _This is it!  If you read Receiver of Many here, Destroyer of Light is the second half of the story. Thank you everyone who has supported me and followed this from the beginning and everyone who found it later! You made this happen :)_


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